


Definitions of Destiny

by Caryn_B



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Past Leia Organa/Han Solo, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Prophecy, Romance, mentions of events from Revenge of the Sith and its deleted scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 95,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caryn_B/pseuds/Caryn_B
Summary: Six months after the Emperor's death, the Rebel Alliance are struggling to help a confused and fragmented galaxy. For Han, Luke and Leia, the fall of the Empire is a turning point in more ways than one, and making choices for the future is more difficult than they'd anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005 after seeing Revenge of the Sith, partly because I wasn't happy with the explanation of Padmé's death, amongst other things. A lot of the stuff that Mon Mothma talks to Luke about comes from some of the RotS deleted scenes, in which Giddean Danu also has a slightly larger role. The story _really_ needs re-editing, but I don't know when that's likely to happen...

When Han found them, everything was just as he'd anticipated. In the center of the clearing a fire burned, the crackling of logs unnaturally loud in the silence. Other than the moon, the fire was the only source of light, and the dancing shadows it cast didn't quite reach the trees that surrounded the glade, nor the small wooden lodge sited several meters away. Luke and Leia sat on opposite sides of the fire, their bodies partly in shadow. Eyes closed, they were silent and composed, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings, although the warmth from the fire must have provided a palpable link to the physical world.

Han felt a familiar pang of exclusion, unwarranted because it'd never been their intention to shut him out. But the feeling was there, nevertheless, and stemmed from the fact that he could never be a part of this form of conversation. Because that was what it was, even though Luke and Leia's words remained unspoken and no actual contact passed between them. Han watched them, wondering again at the silent flow of communication that the twins had developed and honed almost to perfection.

The three of them came here whenever there was an opportunity to escape. Together with Chewie, they'd worked hard to set the place up, clearing away the weeds that had started to choke the glade, and renovating the small wooden hut that had begun its slow crumble into decay. They'd stocked the hut with supplies – bottles of water and wine, energy bars and dried fruit, candles and rugs. The place had no set purpose, but served to give them what they wanted at any particular time. It could be for training or peaceful contemplation, for laughter or silence.

If Luke came alone, he'd often push himself to the extremes of physical exertion, running for miles through the dense woodland, stopping only when he could do no more. Or he'd use the clearing to turn and pivot with near-impossible agility, his lightsaber leaving vibrant trails in the night air. Or sometimes he just sat, opening his mind to everything around him, feeling the pulse of life's energies in a way that Han could never truly understand.

When Han joined him, they'd run together. It was punishing and exhilarating, and invariably ended with Han raising a hand in exhaustion. Then they'd drag rugs from the hut, light the fire and open the wine, talking long into the night.

When Leia came, the air would fill with the buzz of clashing blades as Luke and Leia's lightsabers showered the darkness with bright, angry sparks. When Han had first seen them do this, his stomach had clenched with anxiety because it looked too dangerous. Even though they were cautious, the risks seemed enormous. Yet they never ended up hurting each other. Somewhere within their bond came the ability to read each other's movements with a precision that left Han shaking his head with disbelief. Leia's lightsaber was blue, like the one Luke had lost on Bespin. The twins had built it together, with Leia placing the components and cutting the crystal under Luke's guidance. They'd all held their breath when she'd first activated it, fearful of an error or a potentially fatal misalignment. But they needn't have worried, because it was perfect.

Many times, the twins would sit as they were now, with the fire protecting them from the cold night air. During their early attempts at this silent communication, Leia would often speak out loud, her words punctuating the silence as though at random. Leia had quickly developed her ability to hear Luke's voice in her mind, but it had taken longer for her to project her own words back along that unfathomable route. With training, even that had come.

It was almost invariably night when they came here, because the demands of the day gave them little respite and no time for privacy and seclusion. Leia often remarked that down in the base, the constant pressure drowned out this other, less tangible, part of her that was growing stronger day by day.

Now, Han studied their faces in the firelight. Only up here did he see a degree of relaxation and peace that normally eluded them, and he'd come to the conclusion that this could only be found in their unity with the Force. Along that same line of reasoning came Han's belief that true happiness was something he could never provide, regardless of how much he wanted that.

Han took careful note of the tranquility he saw in Luke's face, made almost ethereal in the half light. And then, eyes still closed, Luke smiled. It was a transformation – and one that Han wished he could provoke more often. Han smiled back at him, even before Luke's eyes had opened and fully acknowledged his presence. Luke had known he was there the moment he'd arrived of course. He always knew.

And then the silence was over, and both Luke and Leia were moving towards him, handing him a rug, passing him a goblet of wine, enfolding him in the familiar warmth of love and friendship. Han sipped his wine, pushing aside his earlier, momentary loneliness, recognizing it as just one more pointless emotion that had no place in his life. Because the reality was that they all needed each other. Han knew this was true, yet somehow the small ache, that he only ever temporarily quelled, still remained deep inside.

The three of them sat there for a long while, turned sleepy from the wine and the lateness, watching the fire burn lower until it was merely a smoldering reminder of its former self. Then Luke stood, stretching limbs grown heavy through inactivity.

"I'm gonna head back," he said. "You two can finish the wine."

Han, knowing what Luke really meant, attempted a grin. Leia smiled, hugging Luke before he turned to go back down the hill, his glowtorch casting a pale aura around him.

Leia reached for her goblet and moved to sit close to Han, but the gesture lacked the confidence she would once have shown. Aware of this, Han flinched inwardly with familiar, guilty regret. He was acutely conscious of Leia's need for reassurance, and berated himself silently for his inability to offer it unreservedly. He put his arm around her, holding her tightly, but his eyes sought the path that wound itself tortuously down the hill. He watched until Luke's shadowy outline had completely disappeared into the darkness. As always, it felt to Han like a small part of himself had left with Luke.


	2. Chapter 2

It was just past dawn, and Leia had been in her office for barely an hour, yet the endless cycle of visits and meetings was already underway. The communications console was warning her insistently that she had unread messages, and her private comlink was beeping furiously. Two delegates from Belishar were waiting in the outer office, and somebody was buzzing determinedly at her door. 

Threepio was flapping about, carrying an armful of datacards and holofoils. Bizarrely, he also held a mug of caf, balanced precariously on top of the stack. All things considered, it was the only thing that seemed to make sense, so Leia grabbed it, taking scalding hot sips that made her gasp. She drank it quickly, partly because there was no time to drink it at leisure, but also because she hoped that the anticipated energy surge would kick-in sooner that way.

That accomplished, she set about tackling the immediate demands. She wrested the ungainly pile of data from Threepio, and placed it carelessly down on the floor amidst several other, similar-looking heaps. All the space on the desk had long since gone, and if she tried to put one more thing on the over-laden shelves, they'd most likely collapse on top of her. It occurred to her that if Threepio brought her any more homeless records to adopt, there wouldn't be room for her at all. 

She cast Threepio a beseeching look. "Find out who's at the door will you?" she asked, flicking her comlink on at the same time. 

Han. 

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded strange, with an echo suggestive of some vast, empty space. Leia remembered that he and Chewie had gone over to Roqqini in the south sector to check out the hangar bays, but knew she could only partly blame the location for the distance she heard in Han's voice.

"I know," she said. "It's okay."

"No, it isn't."

Leia hesitated, despite the fact that talking had become something they could no longer avoid. But doing so over a comlink first thing in the morning, with Threepio listening to every word and Senator Prell standing politely waiting by the door, wasn't a good idea. 

"It's difficult now. Let's talk later." 

"Call me when you're free."

She thumbed the comlink off, turned her smile back to automatic, and went to attend to Senator Prell.

****

"This is the place I had in mind for the fuel storage tanks," Lando explained, gesturing with his hand to encompass the whole run of dilapidated warehouses. 

Luke studied them. They were certainly large enough, but whether they could manage to clear enough space around them to allow the Alliance ships to land was another matter. The whole area was a mass of rubble, and would need seriously heavy-duty equipment to shift it.

"There's this guy I know over in Jira. Owns a fleet of land-levelers. Thought we might charm him into lending 'em to us," Lando added, accurately deducing the potential problems Luke was foreseeing.

Luke gave him a grin. "You never cease to amaze me. How are we gonna charm him?"

"Ah, you know. Thought I'd leave that to you."

"Great. You mean abuse my position to get something for nothing?"

"I find most people wanna co-operate – given the right incentive. And who's gonna turn down the chance to help the last Jedi?"

"Don't you believe it. In any case, I'm not the last one, and I'm not sure how much meaning the term has these days."

"So you'll do it?"

"I'll give it a try, but I think we should offer to pay him something."

Lando threw his arms up in exasperation. "Luke – you've gotta get rid of that attitude! It won't get you anywhere but broke. In business, you don't start off by offering to _pay_ people. You appeal to their better natures."

"Well... what if they don't realize they've got one?" 

"So then you try something else. Giving 'em money's a last resort."

"It's just as well you're running this instead of me then," Luke said with amusement.

In order to examine the outbuildings more closely, they had to scramble across the rubble, watching out for vicious shards of transparisteel. The debris was the result of decades of accumulated neglect, combined with attempts by stone plunderers to raze the area to the ground. Once, this whole compound had been a military camp for the Arudine forces. During Imperial occupation, the local unit had been forcibly disbanded – its recruits either assimilated into the Imperial Navy, or shot, depending on their ideologies. Having forced the Arudine people into line, a small maintenance force took up residence in Roqqini, leaving the old base to crumble away. 

The Alliance had arrived on Arudin a month ago, and was slowly rebuilding the original sheds and residential buildings. There was still a great deal more to do, but Lando had stepped in to speed things up. He'd already transformed the neglected base into something usable in the short space of time they'd been here. Whatever his methods – and some of them probably didn't bear too close an inspection – they were undeniably successful. It was just as well, because the fall-out from the Battle of Endor, and the death of the Emperor, had been immense. It had exacted its own price from them all.

 

After Lando had gone, Luke wandered back slowly through the suite of crumbling rooms. Everywhere had a peculiar, earthy smell of decay, intensified by the early evening dew that had begun to settle. Plant-life had started to intrude and colonize the floors, tendrils forcing themselves up through ever-widening cracks. Shattered panes of synthglass had a framework of greenery that was beginning to block out the light. It was like every other temporary base they'd had. Even Hoth. There was always a sense that nature, if left to its own devices, would take over completely. With Hoth, of course, it would only have been ice. And predators. 

But now they had more ambitious plans. To turn this place into something other than a thrown-together base. It was going to become a home for as long as it took to return stability to the galaxy, and maybe as long as it took to gain freedom for Coruscant. But the question Luke had to consider was whether it could, or should, be _his_ home too. 

He pushed aside a tangle of thick stems from one of the windows. The view gave out directly onto the main complex of the old base. The huge rectangular structure was a buzz of activity, in sharp contrast to the isolation of the abandoned outbuildings. He could see people rushing about, maintaining ships, delivering supplies and meeting transports carrying the endless flow of visiting dignitaries from across the galaxy. Somewhere inside, three stories up, would be Leia, immersed in the habitual chaos that'd been their everyday companion since Endor.

Luke wasn't alone in finding it hard to believe that only six months had passed since then, because it was beginning to feel like a lifetime. For a while, everything had seemed to fall apart. The orderly Imperial navy had become, in the space of the seconds it took for the Emperor's body to fall down the reactor shaft, a band of disparate factions led by war-mongering and power-hungry individuals. Spread throughout the galaxy, these factions vied with each other as to which could control the most number of planets. It went without saying that all these splinter groups were hostile to the Alliance. The only bright thing about the fragmentation was the fact that the Imperials hadn't yet seen the benefits of re-grouping en masse. The Alliance had to make sure that never became a viable possibility. 

After news of the Emperor's death had spread round the galaxy, there'd been simultaneous uprisings on hundreds of worlds, many of them looking to the Rebel Alliance for security and leadership. They'd struggled to deal with this in the only way possible – by setting up a provisional council to channel requests and to allow interested worlds to make their views known. The strain of occupying such a position of trust came close to being intolerable. Only now had things started to settle into a routine of sorts, and it helped that they had a more-or-less permanent base from which to operate. 

Their long-term intention was to help rebuild the Galactic Senate, and there was a deep-set feeling that it should meet again on Coruscant. The reasons were primarily symbolic. Many alternative worlds were central enough and had adequate facilities to fulfill the role, but the freeing of Coruscant would send an unequivocal message to the galaxy. That the Empire was truly dead, and a new era was underway. Coruscant, the world that had once symbolized democracy, would once again belong to everyone. The problem was, the core planet was still under tight Imperial control. As an objective, Coruscant was high on their list, but they had to tackle things one at a time.

For Luke, it had also been a process of tackling things one at a time, but he was torn between wanting to keep constantly busy, and craving the time and isolation to think. And there were so many things to consider. The shock of accepting Vader as his father had hardly diminished, and it existed alongside something that felt like grief. It didn't specifically stem from Vader's death and the loss of a father he'd never had the chance to know, but from the whole futility of Vader's later life. 

Then there was the memory of the power that had coursed through him in the Emperor's throne room. Provoked by Vader's threat to Leia, he'd done what Yoda had told him he must never do. He'd attacked, with violence and anger. And it'd made such an astounding difference. He'd tried since then to imagine the unimaginable – if he'd gone on to kill his father, what would he have become? Even though Han told him thinking like this was pointless because he'd done the exact opposite, he couldn't just turn the thoughts off. It was undeniable that he'd come very close to losing himself. 

With that in mind, there was the issue of Leia's training. All he could do was to pass on what he'd learned, as Yoda had asked him to do. He had to hope that it would be enough. Luke wasn't concerned about Leia's approach. She didn't exhibit any of the signs that Luke saw in himself, and which troubled him as manifestations of qualities Yoda had told him to guard against. While it was true that he was much calmer now and not so prone to reckless gambles with his own life, he'd never succeeded in ridding himself of those tendencies completely. And for someone meant to be the embodiment of Jedi containment and control, why did he still have so many all-too-human emotions? Like anger, impatience and stubbornness. Not to mention a degree of loneliness that seemed out of place, seeing as wherever he went friends and well-wishers surrounded him.

Aside from these issues, Luke knew he needed to make plans for the future. Flying with the Rogues was important to him, but it didn't seem to meet the criteria that Yoda had laid down. _No adventure. No excitement_. He wasn't supposed to want any of those things, but the idea of shutting himself away from everything didn't appeal either. But maybe that was the idea. Maybe the element of penance was intentional. Ben and Yoda, living out their last years in solitude and self-discipline, had made it look that way.

Luke hadn't spoken to anyone about this in detail, although it was obvious to him that those close to him knew his feelings were far from clear. He also knew they wouldn't want him to leave. He looked around him again, trying to envision this place full of people and machinery and droids. Tried to imagine what it would be like to turn his back on all of it and embrace a very different kind of life. The visualization didn't feel right, but that didn't mean it was wrong.

Luke glanced at the darkening sky. Time to head back, check in with Rogue Flight's mechanics, and let Artoo know he was home.


	3. Chapter 3

Leia loosened the braid at the back of her head, bent forwards in her chair, and allowed her hair to cascade freely across the desk.

With a dexterity borne from practice, she massaged the knots of tension that spread from the base of her neck all the way across her scalp. 

"Princess Leia, are you quite alright?" Threepio asked.

"Fine," Leia replied through the thick curtain of hair. "Just a little tired."

Understatement of the week, and probably Threepio realized it but had the sense not to pursue it further.

"Why don't you go and check the supply room – make sure it's secured for the night?" Leia suggested, feeling like she needed just a few minutes of peace and quiet.

Hearing the door hiss to a close, Leia lifted her head, pushing back the now-tangled mass of hair from her eyes. Blearily, she surveyed the mess left behind from the day's proceedings. It never seemed to get any less, because as quickly as she worked through the piles of requests, Threepio added to them with equal rapidity. 

One of the most daunting things was the concept so many worlds had of the Rebel Alliance. In the past few decades, those same worlds had endured the death and destruction of the Clone Wars, followed by the so-called 'peace' the Empire had brought about. In the grand scheme of things, they were only talking about a matter of a few years, but so much had changed in that time. People had lost their independence, and a surprisingly large number of systems didn't seem able or willing to claim it back. They saw the Rebel Alliance as a replacement for the Empire, expecting it to be able to step in and run everything across the entire galaxy with no interruptions to daily routine as they knew it. Trying to convince systems that this was far from their intentions was proving more difficult than she'd imagined. 

What they needed were further alliances. Systems committing themselves to the support of independence, while at the same time dealing with their own domestic issues. For some worlds this was difficult. They'd had populations enslaved, eliminated or displaced. Imperial occupiers had plundered their natural resources, left cities razed to the ground and arable land contaminated beyond recovery. Without the support of more systems the Alliance could only help them so far.

And then there were those systems still under Imperial control. Freeing them had to remain a priority, but they could only hope to help them one by one. At times, it all seemed like one long, uninterrupted nightmare, and she wondered how much more any of them could really take. But at the same time, she knew they'd just carry on, because there was no other way. Not if they were to achieve that dream of galactic freedom. The one her father had instilled in her from her earliest days. 

That is, the man she stilled _called_ her father. Bail Organa had also lived through a time of great transition, but for him the changes had been the opposite of those Leia was now living through. He'd seen the earlier freedom of the Old Republic fall apart, helped along the way by bureaucratic blindness and corruption. He'd lived and fought through the Clone Wars, been there to witness the death of democracy and the birth of the evil that would finally destroy him. 

The familiar grief welled up in her for a man she'd loved and respected, and whose heartfelt beliefs she'd adopted as her own. Along with the sense of loss, there always came anger. That his death had been so utterly pointless. A mere demonstration.

And gone with Bail Organa, her whole past too. Now, when she needed it most, she had nothing to anchor her to that old idealistic self but memories. And even those were suspect. If she could've just asked him...

Angrily, she rubbed at her eyes, refusing to allow the tears to come. When she cried for her adoptive father, it was always in secret. Here in her office she felt too exposed, even though she was momentarily alone. She smiled wryly to herself. Millions had lost mothers and fathers, and millions more adopted children had discovered their real parentage. Not many could claim to have found kinship with the galaxy's greatest monster. 

Leia got up, and walked across to the window. Her office looked out across the huge expanse of duracrete that was serving as a temporary home for many of the Alliance's small ships. X-wings and Y-wings mingled with newer vessels acquired from liberated shipyards. Nothing was new, and everything bore the marks of too many years of fighting.

She'd tried so hard to disassociate the old well of loathing she had for Darth Vader from the understanding she knew she ought to have. For a man who'd been dragged back from a living hell by a son who'd never lost faith. Her own flesh-and-blood father, who'd sacrificed his own life to save Luke's, and who'd brought about the longed-for death of Palpatine. But a father she'd only ever known through suffering and fear and hatred. But then – apart from life itself – he _had_ given her two things, both of them infinitely precious. 

First, what Luke meant to her went beyond words. Much more than just a twin, Luke had become as necessary to her as breathing. And despite their familiarity with each other, Luke continued to fascinate and astound her. He was – to use Han's word – unique. 

And through Vader, she had her link to the Force. She knew now that she'd always had it, but never understood it. Through Luke, she'd come to appreciate its complexity, and it had opened her mind in ways she could never have imagined. When she sat with Luke, letting the Force breathe though her, enriching even the most mundane of objects, she felt empowered, seeing life with altered perceptions. 

And perhaps, inadvertently, Vader had given her something else too. Perspective. She'd always thought she had that, loathing the narrow viewpoints and prejudices that had riddled the old Senate and created unnecessary weaknesses amongst those who should've pulled together for strength. But she'd fallen down in her views on Vader. To her, Vader had been irredeemable. She'd urged Luke to leave Endor, not to face Vader, terrified that this time she'd lose him forever. Yet in the face of her skepticism, Luke had remained unwavering in his convictions. And he'd been right. That he'd seen in Vader something she'd refused to consider was all the evidence she needed to prove how much she'd shielded herself from a painful truth – that even the awfulness of Vader's life and the atrocities he'd committed had another side to them. She'd thought she'd known, without question, that Vader had acted as he did because it was simply his nature. It wasn't easy to accept that there'd been something else in his life besides cruelty and power. Luke had forced his father to remember that, and in doing so had changed everything. Herself included.

So Vader had given her life and given her Luke. And Luke gave her everything he could, but asked for nothing back. In learning together, she and Luke had cemented a bond that had already been unbreakable, but it had also made Leia see more clearly just how isolated Luke really was. For all his strength, at his very center Leia sensed a core of self-doubt that she longed to convince him was unjustified. 

She wasn't alone in seeing this, and she'd long lost count of the number of times Han had raised the subject of Luke's uncertainties. To begin with she'd been gratified by Han's concern, reading into his repeated inquiries a simple desire to set Luke's mind at ease. But lately, his questions came edged with a new insecurity of his own, and one that was becoming impossible to ignore. 

Leia frowned, noticing with only mild surprise that night had now fully descended. And there was no sign of Han yet. As she gazed out across the duracrete, the empty space where the _Falcon_ habitually landed seemed more accusation than anything else. Because she'd promised to contact Han, and hadn't. It was now so late that he'd most likely decided she wasn't going to. 

To pretend there hadn't been a free moment was evading the issue. The truth was, she'd consciously avoided returning his call because she no longer knew what to say to him. Of course, they could have kept the conversation neutral, adopting some tacit pretense that everything between them was fine and ignoring the blatant signs that something had changed. But even that premise was suspect. It was possible, she now acknowledged, that the fine lines that existed between friendship, love and desire had always been this blurred.

Six months ago on Endor, she recalled how a time of joy had been, simultaneously, one of sadness. It had been whilst Han dealt with the blaster wound she'd received during the bunker siege. As they'd sat there, surrounded by Ewoks tending to their own injured, they'd seen the explosion of the Death Star. Leia recalled it as a moment of blinding clarity, but not just because it signified the accomplishment of what had once seemed an impossible dream. Yes, they'd achieved the death of the Emperor, and the celebrations that followed were justifiably ecstatic. But Leia's reactions had been strangely mixed; the dull reverberation of exploding steel finding an echo inside her of a sudden realization. 

That Luke was alive hadn't been in doubt. She'd told Han she could feel it and it was true, and Han's happiness in knowing he'd soon return equaled her own. But if the Emperor's death meant the end of repression and the beginning of a new era, it also, paradoxically, signified an end to a hope of a more personal kind, and it was this which had struck her so forcibly. She knew that when they came down from the high of celebration, what would follow would be a breathing space, to allow them all to stand back and assess the future. And when Han did that – and it was a given that he would – the choices he thought he'd made might no longer be the ones he really wanted. 

Thinking back to that first night of victory on Endor, Leia perceived that it had happened much sooner than she'd anticipated, but she was certain Han hadn't yet begun to accept its implications. Until maybe last night. And although it hurt to realize it, she had to acknowledge that she'd played an active role, albeit subconsciously, in preventing Han from standing back and seeing their relationship from solely his own point of view. Because that same night they'd plunged right into being a couple. From that point on, everybody knew they were together. They made decisions jointly, and never once spoke of a future where they might be apart.

Yet they should have done. Because the fact was, Han was never totally _with_ her. A part of his mind was always somewhere else. It hadn't been something she'd given much thought to during the Rebellion. For one thing, there hadn't been the time to think. And wasn't it Han's independence and no-strings attitude that had attracted her to him in the first place? For someone who valued her own independence so highly, she could appreciate its importance to Han. 

But it wasn't commitment that Han was reluctant to give her. She knew that now. At first, she'd tried to reason it out that way. That he was hankering after the freedoms of the past. No ties, no loyalties, no causes to anchor him down. Although it wouldn't have really been like that, whatever image Han had tried to project. Because there'd been his commitment to Chewie. And men like Han didn't live their lives looking out for themselves and no-one else, even if they went around saying they did. It was in his nature to fight and protect. It was also in his nature to be loyal, and he'd choose that over and above his own needs, even to the extent that he'd refuse to accept there was even a problem. If that wasn't commitment she didn't know what was.

It was more to do with instinct. Han was always aware of what he was doing when they were together. He wasn't reserved – he was affectionate, considerate, possessive and funny. But something was missing, and he'd finally acted on it last night, pulling away from her with some muttered excuse, then picking an argument to cover his discomfort. It had ended on a sour note, and Leia had left alone to return to the apartment. Han never came home at all. Having spent the night in the cabin, he went straight off with Chewie the next morning to Roqqini. 

Of course, they'd had countless arguments before, many of them ending with one or other of them storming off to cool down. But their making up had always lacked the fire of the arguments, and maybe that should've been a sure indicator that something was wrong. 

It all came down to one simple truth. Facing it was no longer avoidable even though it made her want to curl up in denial. She couldn't blame Han for it, because she knew he'd fought against it for her sake. It was just something beyond his control. The fact was, Han loved her, but he wasn't in love with her, no matter how hard he tried to be. He just didn't feel that way about her. It was as basic as that. Because the first time they'd met Han had already been falling in love, and all of them were as guilty as each other for failing to recognize it.

With a last look across the landing pads, Leia turned back to face the room. Going home didn't feel like an option, and if she stayed here she might as well carry on working. She settled back down at her desk, flipped open her datapad, and immersed herself in troubles of a less personal kind.


	4. Chapter 4

"I've held on to him for longer than I expected," Admiral Ackbar acknowledged. "I know he has other responsibilities. I don't intend to monopolize him."

"But he'll only be happy if he knows you've agreed. I can't say how long he'll be gone," Mon Mothma replied. "Will it jeopardize his place in the squadron?"

Ackbar's gruff voice came back quickly. "There's a place for him with the Rogues as long as he wants it. Antilles has joint command now, so the squad won't be leaderless. But why do you think he'll be gone for any length of time? It's only a few days' flight there and back."

Mon Mothma studied Ackbar's image on the screen for a few seconds before replying. "I don't know. I'm sure he won't be gone long. I've just got a feeling about the place."

"A bad feeling?" The Admiral sounded concerned.

"No – nothing like that. I can't explain it. I just have this strange idea that things might be about to break."

"You're talking about Vader?"

"When it happens, you know it'd be better coming directly from us."

"Don't you mean _if_ it happens?" Ackbar grunted.

 

After signing off, Mon Mothma sat for a few moments gazing at the screen. She wondered, not for the first time, if part of setting the past to rights should involve making the truth known to all. But still, even after all these weeks, her mind balked at the prospect. 

It was a very big problem, despite the reassurances she'd given Luke and Leia at the time. There was a huge difference between convincing a few key leaders of the Alliance that their trust in Luke and Leia was justified, and convincing a host of worlds newly freed from the tyranny of the Emperor and Darth Vader. After all, Palpatine's rise to power had taken years of careful planning and patience on his part. He'd insinuated himself into galactic favor, appearing both as the sole voice of reason in an increasingly unruly and fractured Senate, and a restorer of peace instrumental in ending the Clone Wars. 

The galaxy, with few exceptions at first, had placed its confidence in Palpatine, and look where it'd got them. To turn round now and expect it to trust the offspring of Vader might be a step too far for some. Especially those with first-hand experience of Vader's brutality. For those that didn't know either Luke or Leia, and had no idea of the sacrifices both had made, there was little tangible reason to believe in them. 

Yet the other alternative, keeping the relationship under wraps indefinitely, was unthinkable. In already allowing so much time to pass, she was placing them all at risk. Without an open and honest approach, they'd simply be handing ammunition to the detractors who'd come crawling out of the woodwork if they ever learned the truth. It all made her head spin, but she felt the responsibility was hers. She was guilty of postponing it, but she had no intention of evading it, nor of leaving Luke and Leia to fend for themselves. Besides, the Alliance couldn't do without them, and should be thanking the stars for its good fortune in having their help.

Mon Mothma ran a hand over her face with familiar weariness. Nobody had expected anything to be easy after Endor, but it seemed particularly unfair that two of the Alliance's most treasured members, both of whom had given so much of themselves to the cause, should be living under such a cloud of uncertainty. The knowledge had existed as a small shadow in Mon Mothma's mind ever since the day they'd come to see her, bearing a truth that threw everything into a different light.

They'd turned up in a group, probably for the mutual strength and support each other offered. But Mon Mothma had been startled by their need for solidarity. It had struck her as slightly off-key, and for a group of people who'd been instrumental in the overthrow of the galaxy's most hated dictator, they hadn't looked in a mood for celebration .....

 

..... "We must seem like a mob," Leia said, her smile offering an apology that did little to offset the strangeness of their appearance. 

"A little," Mon Mothma conceded. She studied the five of them curiously. Luke and Leia stood side-by-side, leaning slightly against each other. Both looked drawn and tired, understandably, but there was something else there that Mon Mothma couldn't pinpoint. It was almost like wariness. Han stood directly behind them, his stance coming across as overtly protective. And then there was Chewbacca, looking loosely threatening, leaning back against the door and effectively preventing anyone else from entering. Finally, Lando stood slightly apart from the others, his expression challenging, as if in anticipation of trouble.

"You need to see me about something?"

"What do you know about the Jedi?" Leia asked.

Surprised, Mon Mothma shrugged. "Why are you asking me? Isn't Luke better able to answer that?"

"I mean, from the early days. Before the Empire."

"I don't know any more than anyone else did. They worked with the Senate on Coruscant, but they were independent. Their own Council dealt with Jedi affairs – I had no involvement in it."

"You knew Darth Vader?"

"You know I did. Everyone actively involved in the Senate knew Vader. He came to most of the meetings, always at the Emperor's side. You can't have forgotten – you used to be a part of that."

"No, I haven't forgotten. That wasn't really what I meant."

Mon Mothma said nothing, confused with the direction the conversation was taking. 

"I meant," Leia explained, "did you _know_ him?"

"He spoke to me on a few occasions. But only because I had a reputation as outspoken. He warned me that stirring up unrest would be considered treason, but I never gave him a reason to have me arrested."

"Did my father... did Bail Organa ever speak of him to you?"

Why the unnecessary qualification, Mon Mothma wondered? "Many times, obviously. Vader was one of the Alliance's primary targets. As he was to you all. What exactly is it you're asking me? I'd have thought you've all had more personal contact with Vader than I ever did." That Vader should be a preoccupation of theirs was hardly surprising, given what he'd managed to do to them all, both individually and collectively, but the line of questioning seemed odd.

Luke spoke for the first time. "Vader was a Jedi, before the Emperor twisted his mind."

Mon Mothma studied Luke. "I know. Bail told me that. But surely you're not asking me if I trust you? Just because Vader turned evil, doesn't mean I hold that opinion about the Jedi as a whole, whatever lies Palpatine put about during the purge."

"I don't know anything about what happened then – or what the Emperor said about the Jedi. This is something... more personal."

"Oh?" Mon Mothma frowned, no clearer over what Luke was talking about. And then, unbidden, an image came into her mind. It was going back well over 20 years – towards the end of the Clone Wars. She saw the Chancellor, smiling and relieved, returned safely to Coruscant after a kidnapping attempt. And with him, a little shy but proud and happy, was one of the Jedi who'd brought him back. Master Kenobi's apprentice. 

"Skywalker," she said slowly. "He was one of the Jedi from the old days." The name had never fully registered with her until now – it was simply part of one of the hundreds of memories from those traumatic times. She remembered how she'd felt the vaguest pinprick of recollection when she'd first heard Luke's name, but she'd never thought to delve more deeply into it. From Luke's expression, it was obvious that she'd touched on the subject Luke was referring to. And if Luke was asking about the past from a personal standpoint, presumably there was more than just coincidence at play. "Are you connected to him in some way?"

"He was my father."

Taken aback, Mon Mothma stared at Luke. "But, surely...? The Jedi weren't allowed to..." She hesitated, uncertain how much of anything Luke knew about the restrictions of the old Jedi order. 

"I don't know anything of old Jedi rules and regulations," Luke said, answering her dilemma. "But I know that it's a fact."

"Then I'm very sorry. You must have been only a baby during the purge. Did Vader kill him? Is that what you're hoping I can shed light on?"

Luke shook his head, a trace of grim amusement flitting over his features for a moment. "He didn't die during the purge. He died saving me from the Emperor."

The slow creep of a horrible understanding edged itself into her mind. "Then..." she started, but found herself unable to say more. She noticed that Leia had taken hold of Luke's hand, gripping it with an intensity that spoke of a knowledge almost too shocking to comprehend. 

"Yes, Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader. I'm Vader's son," Luke said flatly.

And she could _see_ the truth of it then. It was there in the pain that shadowed Luke's eyes, and there in the instinctive actions of the others, who'd moved subtly but unmistakably closer to Luke. And it was there as an explanation of the troubled introspection she'd often seen, and worried over, in Luke. But knowing was one thing. Understanding was another, and she doubted she could come close to appreciating just what such awareness must mean to Luke. She moved across the room, numbly touching her fingers to Luke's arm.

"Right now, I've no idea what to say," she admitted, her voice sounding strange and forced to her own ears. "Anything is going to sound inadequate." 

Any horror she may have felt was overridden with a sharp concern. She examined Luke's face, noting the pallor of exhaustion that came from more than physical tiredness. "Give me some time to deal with this?"

Luke nodded. "I understand."

"It's not like that. Don't ever think you don't have my trust and support. I just need to take it all in. Have you always known?"

Luke gave a wry smile. "No."

"Vader told him on Bespin," Han cut in, his voice harsh with undercurrents of anger and bitterness. "Of course, he didn't give him the good news right away. Waited till he'd cut off his hand, then gave him a choice of either death or joining him in some cute family reunion."

Mon Mothma closed her eyes briefly. She'd known, of course, the basic facts over what had transpired at Cloud City, but hadn't begun to envision the true reasons that lay behind it all. And she'd certainly had no concept of the full horror of it.

She forced words to her lips. "I can't tell you that I can imagine how it's been for you, because I can't. But it must've been a very difficult decision. To come back, after Cloud City. To face Vader again."

"It'll sound strange," Luke said, "but it wasn't. Really, there was no decision to make. I was sure that Anakin was still there inside Vader, and I had to know for certain. So I could bring him back."

"I hope you feel it was worth it."

"Worth it?" Han snapped. "What d'you mean by that? Worth it to him, or worth it to us? He gets himself taken to the Emperor, forced to fight his own father, then chose to die instead 'cause he stood by what he believed in. Because of Luke, Vader didn't just turn back, he killed the goddamn Emperor too. All that's worth quite a bit to _me_." Han had placed a hand on Luke's shoulder, and Mon Mothma noted how his knuckles had turned white with the force of his grip. 

"Han–" Luke started, but Mon Mothma interrupted.

"You're jumping to the wrong conclusions Han. I'm not implying any criticism, and we all owe Luke more than we can ever repay, even though I doubt he'll see it like that." She smiled at Luke, conscious of the need to set everyone's minds at ease. Han's edginess was infectious, and she could see in Chewbacca's restlessness and Lando's wary vigilance that they'd expected to have to argue their case in defense of Luke. "I can't fully understand everything Luke means, but I recognize – and relate to – the motivation behind it." 

She addressed Luke again directly. "What you achieved was extraordinary. All I meant was that I hope for _your_ sake the price hasn't been too high. What you deserve, more than anything, is peace of mind. And I'm not convinced you have that."

Han was the first to break the short silence that followed her remark, but his words sounded more like an effort to convince himself. "It's early days yet. As long as we all pull together, everything's gonna work out." His voice took on a familiar, challenging, edge. "For one thing, you say he's got your support – but what about the rest of 'em?"

Luke touched his own hand briefly to Han's, which still rested on his shoulder, and Mon Mothma wondered at the connection that seemed to flow between the two friends. Visibly, Han barely changed, but it seemed as though that small moment of contact altered his whole demeanor in a manner that defied interpretation. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Mon Mothma said, with a reassurance that she didn't entirely feel. "Just give me some time to let this sink in, and I'll think of the best way to approach matters. I'll have a private word with Madine and Ackbar first. I hope I don't need to tell you they'll be sympathetic."

"You don't know that," Leia put in. "It'll be a shock to them. They might consider us to be a security risk."

"After what you've all done? I doubt it. I agree it'll be a shock, but we've dealt with enough of those between us to cope with another."

"We haven't told you everything yet."

"Oh?" Mon Mothma cast Leia a quizzical look.

"It's about Vader. And me and Luke."

"Go on."

Leia exchanged a small glance with Luke, and some unseen communication seemed to pass between them. Leia smiled, then turned back to face Mon Mothma.

"It was done just after we were born, to keep us safe from Vader and the Emperor. Obi-Wan Kenobi took Luke to Tatooine to live with his Aunt and Uncle. I was adopted by Bail Organa. In a way, it's because of Vader that we met again. So now we're back together, as it should be."

Mon Mothma stared at Leia, the shock of this disclosure vying in her mind with something pushing at her subconscious, but refusing to come to the surface.

"You're sure of this?"

Leia gave a light laugh. "Oh yes. We're twins. The twins of Vader."

Again, that image of Anakin Skywalker came to Mon Mothma's mind. He'd stood slightly diffidently, letting the Chancellor bask in the relief of the gathered senators. Misguided, all of them, but they'd not known that then. They'd started to move off towards the Senate building, but Skywalker had hung back slightly. Bail had spoken to him, issuing thanks from them all. Bail, who'd later adopted the daughter of that same Jedi. A Jedi with a secret. Her mind was doing calculations at light-speed. It can't have been long after those events that Luke and Leia were born, so Skywalker must've been...

"Dear gods..." The words were out before she could stop them, painful realization forcing the sounds from her lips.

"What?" Leia asked, her expression startled.

Mon Mothma shook her head. "Nothing. I'm sorry. So much to take in, that's all." She took a few steps back towards her desk, then turned round, a frown between her brows. A thought too awful to voice really, but hers was, after all, only second-hand knowledge. The reality could only have been devastating.

"Vader... your father... tortured you."

"He didn't know. _I_ didn't know – not then," Leia said, as if this excused the atrocity of it all. "And it was before. When he was still... lost." 

Mon Mothma sat down, feeling the onset of an exhaustion far beyond anything physical. "I think we've all said enough for now. We need to be careful about what we do. Just announcing this isn't the answer. But neither is keeping it a secret for much longer. We don't have anything to hide, and don't want it to appear that we do. It'll be worse if the information gets out in some other way, and it looks like we've been concealing it."

Han reacted angrily to her comment. "I thought the whole point of what we've been doing was so people could be seen as individuals again. Where's the freedom if you're taken down for something you've no control over?"

"You know things are seldom that clear-cut."

"I don't care what anyone thinks of me," Luke said. "But it's important they know it's safe. That I'm not gonna turn into another Vader overnight."

Well _I_ care what people think!" Han retorted. "What're they gonna do? Forget everything you've done? If people wanna start spreading stupid stuff around, then they'd better know they'll have me to deal with." .....

 

..... Mon Mothma shook her recollections aside with some self-derision. She'd spent so much time dwelling on the problem, but had still failed to come up with a satisfactory answer. So far, only a few knew the truth. Ackbar and Madine of course, but also the Rogues. Luke was very close to his team, and wanted nothing but honesty between them. The military leaders, although supportive, were still unhappy with the idea of going public with the information. They felt the galaxy wasn't ready for it, and if she was being honest, Mon Mothma agreed with them. But she also felt that the galaxy wouldn't condone what they'd see as further political subterfuge. The dilemma left Luke and Leia no further on.

****

"You didn't get back to me."

Leia shook herself awake and swiveled her chair around slowly. Han was leaning in the doorway, his expression betraying a knowledge of something more difficult to be dealt with than their argument of yesterday.

"It's the middle of the night," he continued. "Were you gonna stay here till morning just to avoid me?"

Leia raised her hands slightly in mute apology, slid out of her chair and moved to the front of her desk, conscious of the need to close the distance between them. Her limbs ached with weariness and her head felt heavy and dull from lack of proper sleep.

Han pushed off from the door frame, made his way across the room. He peered closely at her face, his frown showing his recognition of her exhaustion. "You've got a lot on your mind," he pointed out. "And I'm not helping."

"It's not your fault." 

"Of course it's my fault. Don't try to make me feel better."

"No – I mean it. We're both to blame. We should be more honest with each other."

Han put his hands on Leia's shoulders. "I don't know what got into me last night, okay? Put it down to tiredness or somethin'."

Leia shook her head slightly. "This isn't about last night Han."

"What d'you mean?"

"I think you know."

Han stared back at her for a moment, then gave a short sigh. Releasing Leia's shoulders he paced over to the window and looked out across the duracrete. "I guess I thought we'd work it out."

"I think that's what we've been trying to do. But it's not really happening is it?" Leia said.

Han turned to face her. "Everyone goes through rough patches. Things aren't easy for us. We're both rushed off our feet – maybe we need to accept that a bit more."

"Things have _never_ been easy. We can't use it as an excuse for what's happening between us. These days, it feels like... like we're always having to try too hard."

"I _am_ trying hard – 'cause I don't wanna lose what we've got, and I don't wanna let you down."

"That's part of the problem. You never got the chance to make up your mind because I'd already made it up for you, and you wouldn't want to hurt me. Everything happened too fast. Afterwards, I should've given you the space to work it out for yourself."

"Hey – it wasn't like that," Han protested. "I wanted it that way too. And things've been good between us. I _love_ you."

Leia walked over and touched her hand to Han's arm. "I know that. But we should've stuck at being happy with that. Not tried to make it into something it wasn't." She hesitated, wondering how much more she should say. "I don't want to lose your friendship..."

"Come on, that's never gonna..."

"Han – let me say what I need to say. Please?" Leia cut through his protest. "If we try to carry on with this as we are, it'll just get more difficult. We'll end up losing everything. I know you don't want to hurt me, and I know you'd stay with me just to prevent that. But it's missing the point."

"So what is the point? That you want it to be over?"

"It sounds so harsh when you put it like that. But I care too much about you to see you struggling with this conflict."

" _Conflict_? That ain't what I'd call it. Sure, I know something's changed, but we can sort it out. I don't want it to be over. Give me a chance to prove it."

"Then you'd be fooling yourself. Think about it Han – how much have things really changed?"

"I don't get you. You just said yourself–"

"No – I never said they'd changed. I said I pushed you into a relationship you weren't really sure about, and–"

"I _was_ sure about it," Han interrupted, resentfully.

Leia ignored his objection and continued, "...that you were never fully involved in right from the start."

"That's not fair. I know I'm not perfect, but I've tried to do all the right things."

"But that's just it – don't you see? Of course you tried to do all the right things. You were doing them for me. But what about you?"

"I've already said I wanted those things too," Han insisted.

"But you weren't totally with me. You weren't then and you're not now. That first time we were together, I knew."

Han shook his head, his expression puzzled. "I don't understand."

"Don't misunderstand me – it was lovely. And special. But I knew straight away. I guess I just chose to ignore it."

"Knew _what_ straight away? You're not makin' any sense."

"That I wasn't the one for you. I know it Han, because things between us have always been too..." Leia paused, shaking her head. "I can't think of the right word. Too considerate. Too civilized."

"What're you talkin' about?" Han sounded incredulous. "Too _civilized_? Are you sayin' things have to be _un_ civilized to be good?"

"No, they don't have to be like that. There's friendship, affection, trust... all those things matter as much as passion."

"We've _got_ all those."

"And having a relationship based on them is fine – mostly. But then you're always going to be wondering – what if?"

"There ain't no _'what if'_."

"Then you're cutting yourself off from a chance."

"A chance at what?"

"The sort of feelings I'm talking about. The sort that take over in seconds."

"Yeah – and burn themselves out just as quickly most likely. You're talkin' in clichés and life ain't like that."

"It's not a cliché when there's a whole basis of friendship and trust to build on. If you've got that, I'd say there was no choice."

Han stared back at her, uncertainty crossing his face, but failing to mask the dismay that flashed through his eyes. It wasn't there for long, and he did his best to hide it, but Leia had seen it and understood. She knew that she was walking dangerously close to a thin line that Han would've vowed not to cross. On the other side would be the difficult territory of feelings kept locked away – not to be released for fear of hurting her. That Han had discerned Leia's suspicions was obvious in the set of his jaw and the instinctive denial that stepped in to shutter his gaze.

Leia studied his face, all the contours so familiar to her now. Yet she'd never succeeded in truly reaching the man beneath. Regret simmered below the surface of calm, but she also felt relief that, in the end, the words had come so easily. She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. "I love you too. Don't try to talk me out of it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want it to come to this."

"I know." 

And then, with no further warning, she stepped resolutely into the very heart of Han's predicament.

"It's Luke – isn't it?"

" _No_... I..." He raised a hand, then let it drop by his side, a gesture that acknowledged the futility of a refutal. "I'm sorry," he said again. 

Leia just nodded slowly, but didn't speak.

"He doesn't know." 

"No," Leia agreed. "He'd have left by now if he did."

Han gave a vague nod of assent. He looked shaken, as if he didn't know where to begin in explaining things. Leia wanted to step in, to tell him there was no need, but it didn't seem fair. Han had the right to put his side of things too.

"Listen... let me explain," he said. "I never meant... I didn't expect it to happen. It's just kinda crept up on me. I don't know why."

"Oh Han – there _are_ no logical reasons for things like this. They just happen. You can't stop them."

"Didn't wanna mess everything up. Didn't wanna hurt you."

"But there has to be honesty. It never would've worked out if we were just living a pretense."

Han shook his head. "There wasn't any pretense, you've gotta believe me. All the times we were together, I wasn't wonderin', you know...." he tailed off, discomfort radiating off him in waves.

Leia smiled at him, because she knew it was true. He wouldn't have been spending his time with her wishing he was with Luke, because he would've consciously closed off all thought along those lines. And Leia also knew how much of his behavior would've been governed by the trust Luke had in him. Han would've considered his feelings to be a betrayal, not just of Leia, but of Luke too. 

"I know that," she said. "I don't blame you for it. I should've accepted it sooner. Maybe I pretended not to see all the signs."

Han gave a small grimace. "I've made a goddamn mess of everything."

"It's not just down to you. Things will work themselves out somehow – they usually do."

"I doubt it," Han muttered. He hesitated a moment. "What's gonna happen now?"

For the first time, uneasiness fluttered inside her. "I don't want to stay in the apartment. I'm going to move over to the south wing. Mon Mothma's over there too."

"Oh? Sounds like you've been thinking about this for a while." Han's voice was too carefully even, leveling out the hurt that lurked beneath his words. 

Leia sighed. "Yes, but I wasn't keeping it from you intentionally. I hadn't even thought it out properly until tonight." She bit her lip, thrown into uncertainty by Han's belief that she'd planned it all out behind his back. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It crossed my mind to wonder where to go if... if things went wrong."

"You didn't mean to hurt _me_?" Han repeated, bemused. "I'm the one doin' all the hurtin'. Ain't got a right to expect anything."

She touched Han's cheek again. "Yes you have. We both have. We kept this from each other for all the right reasons, but they were all the wrong reasons too."

Han didn't reply. He took hold of her other hand and gripped it hard. Despite his distress, Leia could sense something else within Han. It wasn't quite relief, because it was far too soon for Han to realize they were doing the only thing possible in the circumstances. But it amounted to an easing of an inner tension – the kind that came from suppressing too much for too long.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Leia asked eventually.

"Would you rather I told him?" Han replied. He seemed to catch himself, and hurried to qualify his answer. "I mean, about us splitting up. Obviously I'm not gonna tell him anything else."

"I meant will you tell him how you feel?" 

Han looked aghast. "Of course I'm not gonna tell him that. I know I'm crazy, but I'm not _that_ crazy."

Leia looked at him, amusement bubbling up inside despite everything. "What's so crazy about it?"

"Everything. He cares a lot about you. The last thing he'll want is to see you hurt, and if he knew the reason why..."

"The last thing he'd want would be for us to carry on living a lie. And he cares a lot for you too. Probably much more than you realize."

"Yeah, well messin' his sister around will be pushing things too far. 'Sides, you said yourself he'd want to get away from me if he knew."

"I never said that, you dolt," Leia laughed. "I meant he'd have left before if he thought he might end up splitting us up. He'd have taken himself out of the equation, because that's him. I don't mean he'd have run away because of the way you feel about him."


	5. Chapter 5

The following afternoon, Luke was back at the disused warehouses. He'd spent the morning in Jira, discussing the proposed land clearance with Lando's contact. He'd had some success and Creggan was willing to help. He'd asked Luke for rough plans, so he could decide which of his machines would best suit the Alliance. Luke had offered to take the measurements, but was going to leave Lando in charge of organizing the rest of it. But despite the fact he'd been there for over an hour, he hadn't even opened the datapad he'd brought along for the task. Drawn to the emptiness of the place, he'd allowed his thoughts to take over, and, as they so often did, they took him back to Endor.

Ben had told him that Yoda would always be with him, but in reality, what had that meant? He'd expected guidance, but all he'd had was silence. That night in Endor, amidst the laughter and music, he'd exchanged his last look with those who'd played such a pivotal role in his life. They'd said nothing to him, but their smiles had implied something more valuable than words. And there'd been a tangible bond between the three of them, Obi-Wan, Yoda and his father. Reunited in the Force, secure in the strength of their combined joy over what had transpired. 

But Luke had been on the outside, able to feel their pride and happiness, but unable to share in the memories that made their reunion so precious. Because Ben had told him virtually nothing. Only the bare facts – and then so few of those. He had so many questions, but now nobody was around to answer them. 

Had Ben meant that Yoda would be with him only in his memories? That the training he'd instilled in Luke was his way of remaining permanently with him? He'd already learned the hard way that Ben's words could be interpreted in several ways, and not all of them were easy to understand. Ben and Yoda had picked him up, worked on all his anger and impatience until they took on new meanings, and given him the key to unlock a life hugely removed from anything that'd gone before. And now they'd left it entirely up to him to determine the way forward. 

It felt to Luke like another bereavement. The shock of Ben's death, so soon after the murders of Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, had left him with a feeling of isolation which intensified the pain of loss. He'd flung himself straight into battle, the image of the smoking remains of his home, and the sight of his Aunt and Uncle's bodies, permanently imprinted in his head. 

But then he'd discovered that Ben had never really left him. It put a new interpretation on death, confirmed by Yoda's dying words on Dagobah. Yoda had once told Luke that he needed to accept the fact of death, including the possibility of the deaths of his friends. It was another way of freeing himself from the ties of human emotion. But Luke had never achieved that so-called freedom, and wasn't even sure if he wished to. But he did realize that what he _wanted_ to do, and what he _ought_ to do, were most likely very different. Especially from Yoda's point of view.

And now Ben had left him again – and this time it felt like it could be permanent. He wondered if it might be a test, designed to prove that he'd conquered any misguided feelings of grief. If it _was_ a test, he'd failed it on two counts. First, for feeling yet again the emptiness left by death, and secondly, for allowing himself to get angry over the whole business. Because sometimes it felt like Ben had played with his emotions, appearing and disappearing with no regard for how Luke might feel about it. He sighed inwardly, then purposefully switched on the datapad. Time to work.

The crunch of rubble underfoot made him look up almost immediately. The approaching person wasn't visible yet, but Luke knew who it was, and the knowledge lifted his spirits instantly. 

He was already smiling when Han finally made it into the first warehouse.

"I'm never gonna be able to sneak up on you," Han complained.

"Why, d'you want to?" Luke asked, throwing him a grin. "It's not as though I'm ever doing anything interesting."

"What _are_ you doing?"

"Making plans for Lando."

"Huh! I've got a few plans for him, but probably not what _you_ meant."

"You've not fallen out again?" Luke asked, with mild exasperation.

"No more than usual. What plans anyway?" Han moved over to study Luke's datapad. "Doesn't look like you've done very much."

"No. I got distracted."

Han looked at him for a moment. "Don't tell me – you've been walkin' around thinking again. What was it this time?"

Luke gave an apologetic smile. "The future again. And Ben and Yoda. I wish I knew what it is they expect of me. I mean, should I be trying to reestablish some sort of Jedi council? Is that what they'd want me to do?"

"If they were here now, to ask, what d'you think they'd say?"

"They'd tell me to trust my feelings."

Han shrugged. "Seems fair enough to me."

"I'm glad it seems so simple to you."

"Hey – the way I look at it, nothing's simple with you," Han grinned. "But maybe it _is_ that straightforward. If they really wanted you to do things a certain way, don't you think they'd be hangin' around harassing you about it?"

"Well, that's one way of looking at it I guess."

"So what _are_ your feelings about it? Do you wanna set up some kinda council? Go searching for more Jedi – if there are any to find?"

Han's words were simple enough, and the subject matter one they'd broached several times before, but this time Luke sensed something more complex behind the questioning. A sort of confusion, and maybe sadness too. If that was the case, it found a reflection within himself, because effectively what they were discussing was change. A future that by definition could force them to go their separate ways. He chose his words carefully, delivering them with a casualness that offset the fundamental seriousness of it all. "I feel torn in several directions."

"Go on."

"Part of me thinks I've got a duty to do it. To try to set something up. I've been given this ability and maybe it's wrong to keep it to myself."

"You don't keep it to yourself," Han protested. "What kinda thinking's that? All you've done so far is work non-stop tryin' to help everywhere you can."

"I mean, should I be passing the training on to others? Keep it going?"

"There's Leia."

Luke nodded. "I know. But her future seems clearer than mine. She's carrying on doing what she's always done, but with this extra side to her life. And she's needed here."

" _You're_ needed here."

"But there are others like me, who could take over the things I do for the Alliance."

Han shook his head. "You're wrong. There's no-one like you here." He moved away, ostensibly to examine the stability of a sagging door frame, but Luke could detect an underlying awkwardness, as though Han had said more than he should.

He walked over to join Han in the doorway. "I still feel committed to the Alliance and all we're trying to do. But there are other things to consider."

Han looked at him, his expression guarded. "I know that. But why can't you do both? I mean, does the Jedi thing have to be separate from everything else? Didn't they fight in wars too? In the stories I've heard they did."

"Yes, they did. Ben told me he fought in the Clone Wars with my father. But from what I've picked up, they were also independent. Not linked to any political factions."

"Neither are we. We're not a government – we're just tryin' to make sure people get the right to run their own lives. What you do towards that counts for a lot. It matters to people too – that you're here."

They wandered out of the building into a scrubby enclosure that once housed the camp's training circuits. Very little remained of these now, just the odd ditch from crawl-unders and a few durasteel posts that once held pulleys.

"So what are all these other directions you're torn in?" Han asked, resuming the thread of their conversation.

Luke sighed, because explaining it was difficult, especially as he wasn't even clear in his own mind. "The only two Jedi I've ever really known have been Ben and Yoda. They were both... alone."

Han looked at him sharply. "That wasn't part of being a Jedi – they were in hiding. And Ben was watching over you."

"But what if it _is_ part of being a Jedi? What if it's necessary to be apart from others?"

"Why?"

"Because there's a danger in being close to people. Of all the things that Yoda taught me, one thing that really sticks out is that he always said I had to clear my mind. Only then would I know what was right and what was wrong. But a lot of what I've done has been instinctive. Going to Cloud City went against everything he'd told me I should do."

"There was a lot more at stake then. You just didn't know about it. But Yoda knew and he was trying to protect you, 'cause he didn't think you were ready. Least, that's how I read it."

"There's more to it than just Yoda's advice. I've been thinking a lot about it in the past few weeks." Luke adopted a more cautious tone. "Especially about my father."

"Well, it's easy to see why," Han muttered.

"About why he turned. The real reasons behind it."

Han kicked aside a jagged fragment of durasteel. "If you're still worried you're gonna end up like him, forget it. You ain't like him."

"How d'you know? How do any of us know? The only people who were in a position to judge that are Yoda and Ben. And Yoda told me I _was_ like my father."

"Sure – but he was talking about little things, not the whole picture. And that was before your training. Before you knew the truth."

"He told me I had a lot of anger in me, like my father."

"That wasn't a bad thing for Ben and Yoda."

"Why d'you say that?"

"Obvious ain't it? You were angry when you left Tatooine. Heading for Alderaan and leaving behind your dead aunt and uncle. Pretty handy for Ben that you got to see first-hand what the Empire was really about."

"You're saying Ben used my anger?"

"You know he did. He encouraged it – even gettin' himself killed in front of you."

They picked their way carefully across the enclosure, wary of the ground's hidden irregularities and buried debris. 

"When I found out the truth it felt like Ben had manipulated me. Tricked me almost," Luke admitted. "Even though I could see his reasons, I couldn't come to terms with it straight away. Perhaps that's what my problem is – I always have to argue the case. Can't just accept things as being right. I've never really become the calm, passive person Yoda told me I should be."

"Hey – passivity let the Empire take over in the first place. You make your own mind up about what you think's right and that seems like a good thing to me. And maybe I don't know much about all the weird stuff, but I've done a lot of thinking too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," Han said. "And I don't mean worrying that you're gonna turn into another Vader."

"So what have you been thinking about?"

"About how to stop you worrying about it. The way I see it, it doesn't come down to whether or not you're angry or frightened, or whatever. It comes down to whether or not you accept those feelings and deal with 'em. It's a choice you make. I mean, take you and Vader."

"Okay..."

"You were both trained in pretty much the same things I'd guess, although Vader's might've been more formal."

"And for a longer time," Luke added.

"Right. That makes what I'm gonna say even more important. The main thing is Vader would've known, just like you do, that there are two different sides and if you make the wrong choice, you're gonna be in trouble. We don't know what happened to him, but he ended up makin' that wrong choice. But you didn't. You decided you'd rather die than end up the same as Vader."

"Because the evidence of what I'd become if I did was right there in front of me. Maybe Vader didn't have that – maybe the choice wasn't so clear-cut."

"And maybe he chose that side because he wanted to."

"I don't think so. He'd been taken in by the Emperor – I'm sure of it. It was the words Palpatine used. He told me Vader was 'his'. Like a possession. He owned him and controlled him. The good part was so deeply buried he'd lost sight of it completely."

"Until you brought it back."

Luke studied Han for a few moments, recalling the shock of realization that had swept through him as he'd stood over the defeated Vader. Part thrill, and part dread. A paradox, both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. He tried to put it into words, knowing none would ever be adequate. 

"It was frightening – that power. Even though it was there for just a few moments I could feel its strength. It was like a drug. There was an unstoppable force at my fingertips, right there for the taking if I wanted it. It's easy to understand how it could take over."

"The point is, it didn't take _you_ over," Han argued. "You felt it, but your instincts against it were stronger, and that's what I'm talkin' about. That anger, fear, whatever – you controlled it 'cause you're stronger than Vader was."

"Maybe Vader thought he was strong once. Maybe he'd been in a similar situation and fought free of it before. Perhaps he let his defenses down too much. I don't want to get complacent about it."

"Huh," Han grunted. "That's one thing you'll never be. 'Sides, you told me it was all about takin' a quick and easy path to get what you want. So there you have it."

Luke shook his head, puzzled. "What're you talking about?"

"Say there are two ways of doing something, and you gotta choose one. The first's easy – you just go 'n do it. The other way, you gotta sit down and think about it, turn it over in your mind, pull it apart to see all sides to it, lose days of sleep over it, and think of all the consequences it might have for everyone else, and then maybe you'll make a choice."

"Are you trying to tell me I can't make decisions?" Luke grinned.

"Prevarication's my middle name," Han said, "but you got it down to a fine art."

Luke laughed. Most of the time, it was the opposite of the truth, and they both knew it. Luke's whole life, from agreeing to take Ben to Anchorhead up to the present moment, had been a constant series of what Yoda would've termed 'reckless' decisions. But in other respects Han was right. When it came to decisions that affected Luke on a more personal level, his approach was entirely different, consumed as it was by worry over the hypothetical repercussions for everyone else.

"Remember when we went to see Mon Mothma?" Luke asked, after a short pause. "To tell her about Vader?"

Han nodded.

"Well she knows something more about the past."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing."

"I need to know as much as I can. I want to know what happened."

"She's not gonna know that – she was shocked 'cause she remembered Anakin as a Jedi. She didn't know he'd ended up as Vader, so she's not gonna be able to tell you what made him turn. Probably nobody can."

"I know – I don't mean about that. But discovering Vader's identity wasn't the only thing she was shocked about."

"What d'you mean?"

"She was surprised because it shouldn't have happened. D'you remember what she said? _'The Jedi weren't allowed to...'_ "

"Yeah, but weren't allowed to do what? Fall in love? Have sex? Have kids?"

"If they weren't allowed to do all or any of those things – assuming that's what she meant – then _why_ weren't they?"

"'Cause they had a load of goddamn stupid rules probably. You had to dedicate your life to working for 'em – not want anything else."

"Maybe," Luke said consideringly. "But maybe it was for their protection."

"Against what?"

"Well... what did Vader and the Emperor use against me? Every approach was the same. My feelings for other people. Vader tortured you, then he used the threat of approaching Leia as a way to make me fight him. And Palpatine used my feelings for Vader, knowing I'd go to him in the end. And I was given a choice of watching you all die down below, or being able to save you all by turning."

Han bent down to pick up a lump of fallen masonry, then flung it away with more forcefulness than was strictly necessary. 

"Okay, you cared about people – but you still didn't turn. So just caring about people ain't gonna turn you into another Vader. You've proved that."

"It's the fear though isn't it? That's the issue."

Han turned to him, pointing an almost accusing finger at Luke. "You're not afraid of anything. Not really."

Luke shook his head. "You're wrong. I'm afraid of hurting people I care about. And that's what I'm talking about. It's a weakness. And weaknesses get exploited."

"How can you say caring's a weakness?" Han snapped. "For one thing, it's because you cared that we've nearly won this godsforsaken war." 

"I don't mean it's wrong or weak to care, but there are different ways of showing it. It's what Yoda was tying to make me see when he told me I shouldn't go to Cloud City. In his view, staying away proved I cared more, but Vader thought differently, and used people as a way to get to me."

"But who's gonna come along and do that to you now? Vader's dead. The Emperor's dead. "

"It's not others I'm worrying about. It's myself. I can do that to myself."

"No way!" Han said. "That ain't you, and you know it. And haven't we been through all this before?"

"I guess so. A million times," Luke conceded with a smile. "But it's like I said, about getting complacent. Maybe Anakin did that. Maybe I need to go and sort things out in my mind."

"Is that what you want? To go away and cut yourself off from everyone? What about that other stuff you said – about not keepin' it to yourself?"

"That's what I meant by being torn in several directions," Luke said. "Just now, I don't have any answers."

"Well I've got one. I think you should stay here."

There were a few moments of silence before Luke replied. "Why?"

"You're doing good things here, that's why. You can do your Jedi stuff as well."

Luke looked at Han thoughtfully, struck by the note of controlled vehemence in Han's voice. 

"We're all in this together," Han continued. "Don't shut me out just 'cause you've got some weird idea you shouldn't have any friends."

"I'm not. If I thought leaving was the best answer, it wouldn't have anything to do with shutting people out. I'd only do it if it seemed the right thing to do."

"You wouldn't be doing me any favors though, 'cause if you left it'd be over some ass-brained idea of protecting us. And just so you know, _I_ don't want that kinda protection." 

"I'm only talking about a break. I'm not thinking of forever. It's just that it's hard to think when there's always so much to do. And I've done it before – when I went to Yoda."

"This is different. If you go off alone you'll talk yourself into all sorts of stupid stuff, and you won't come back. 'Sides, if you go, then I might as well go too. And I thought you wanted me to stick around – for the Alliance's sake," Han muttered.

Luke gave a bemused shake of his head. "I did. I _do_. But what difference does it make to your position if I leave? You have a life to lead here. There's Leia, and–"

"Makes no difference to my goddamn _position_. But I'm not talking about positions am I? It's inside – what it makes me feel in _here_." Han stabbed a finger furiously at his own chest.

"What – you think I'd be letting you down?"

"No, that's not it!" Han stalked across to the low wall, leaned over slightly and rested his hands on top of the uneven, crumbling surface. Pockets of moss grew in the gaps. Han picked at it, throwing the spongy green growth to the ground, the rigid set of his shoulders a clear sign of irritation. 

Luke walked over to him, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry," he said. "Our friendship means a lot to me too. I didn't mean to make it sound like it doesn't."

"I'm tryin' to tell you something, but you're not listening properly."

"I'm listening now."

Han gave a heavy sigh and turned to face Luke. "The future... Leia... whatever you think I'm doin' with my life... It's all a mess. Ain't gonna work."

Luke said nothing, but continued to watch Han, confused by the way the conversation had turned. Since Endor, everything had seemed to be going Han's way for once, and he'd shown an increased contentment with his role in the Alliance, which Luke had partly attributed to Leia. 

"She knew it before I did. I guess we both thought we'd work it out. The truth is, I really didn't wanna hurt her, but I've done it anyway." 

"What's wrong?"

Han looked down at the ground, then back at Luke. "I'm sorry. We've split up. Leia's already moved over to the south wing."

Startled, Luke gave a small shake of his head. It was the last thing he'd expected Han to say, and for a brief moment he felt as though everything had tilted, throwing many of his notions of the future into disarray. And alongside the stab of concern for both Han and Leia came a disturbing realization. That he'd never quite acknowledged just how much he relied on the existence of that relationship for his own peace of mind. He shook his confusion aside, focusing on Han's agitation and already thinking ahead for ways to reassure his friend. 

"Damn, I'm sorry Han. What happened?"

Han shrugged, his barely concealed grimace a sure sign that he'd probably said more than he'd intended to. Luke wondered if he'd planned to keep it from him, waiting until Luke learned the facts from Leia. They'd always been honest and upfront with each other about most things, but Han had the right to privacy, and Luke had no intention of pushing Han into explanations he might not want to give.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he said, reading into Han's hesitation a reluctance to say more.

Han scowled. "I'm tryin' to think of the best way to put this, okay? Just bear with me."

"Sure."

"Listen, I care a lot for Leia, and I think you know that. Whatever you're gonna think of me – and you're gonna be angry – I never planned it this way. If I could do anythin' about it I would, but I can't. So I'm sayin' it in advance."

"Saying what?"

"That I'm sorry."

"Well, you already said that," Luke replied, "but why are you saying it to me? Obviously I'm sorry you've fallen out, but why d'you think I'd be angry about it? I'm hardly likely to be. Anyway, maybe it's not as bad as you think. You've had arguments before. Don't you think you'll be able to sort this one out?"

"How d'you know you won't be angry with me? You don't even know the reasons for it. And no, we won't be able to sort this one out."

Han's stubborn denial led to faint stirrings of exasperation in Luke, because they seemed to be heading for one of Han's impossibly convoluted excuses for not listening to reason. 

"Knowing you and Leia, nothing's ever that certain. And as for being angry, that's a bit difficult to manage when you haven't told me anything. It's fine, if you don't want to. But I'd like to help if I can, maybe talk to Leia, find out–"

Han interrupted with a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't think you can help. The point is, she's your sister, and I've messed her about haven't I?"

"Leia makes her own mind up about everything. I'm not gonna start casting blame because the two of you broke up – that's none of my business. If there's anything I can do, I'll do it. What do you mean by messed her about anyway? Because things haven't worked out?"

"There's someone else," Han said bluntly. 

If his world had tilted before, it had only been a subtle shift compared to now. Everything seemed to turn upside down, and vulnerabilities Luke had worked hard to banish were suddenly too close to the surface. He was aware of Han standing there, waiting for his response, the expression on his face a mixture of annoyance and relief that he'd ended up saying what he'd said.

"You mean... you've found someone else? Or Leia has?" Luke asked eventually.

"If she had I wouldn't blame her. But it's not how it sounds. There just _is_ someone."

Finding the right kind of words was still difficult, so Luke said the first thing that came into his mind. "You... love this person?"

Han gave a small shrug. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Han stared back at him. " _Why_? What kinda stupid question's that?"

"Sorry. It's just – you and Leia, you seemed so close. Like you'd always be together."

"We _are_ close, but what's that got to do with anythin'?"

"I suppose–"

"It's got nothing to do with it," Han carried on, without waiting for Luke's reply. "You can be as close as you like to someone, but it ain't gonna work out if there's somethin' missing."

"Like what?" 

Han gave another short laugh. "What's it gonna take to make you see it?" He resumed his attack on the moss, his eyes fixed firmly on the wall. A furious type of tension was emanating from him, and Luke had the sense that Han was one step away from exploding with it. 

"An explanation maybe?"

Han spun back round and grabbed hold of Luke's wrist. He pulled him up close, ignoring the gasp of surprise that Luke couldn't stifle.

"Then I'll tell you like what," he growled. "Like when someone's in your head all the goddamn time and you can't get 'em outta there. Like every time you see someone, you can't think straight 'cause all you wanna do is touch them. Like when you fall asleep thinkin' of someone and you wake up wanting them." 

"Han, just..." Luke tried to free his wrist from Han's grip, but Han refused to let go. Instead of releasing Luke, he simply tightened his grasp, hauling Luke right up against him. Han's eyes were fixed on Luke's face, and Luke knew how much of his incredulity must show there. In that same second, he also knew that Han had chosen to ignore it. 

"Damnit...." Han's curse barely made it past his lips as he closed the final gap between them. The hand on Luke's wrist moved up, sliding around the back of Luke's neck with a pressure that brought their mouths together.

Beneath his disbelief, it felt to Luke like something deep inside was fighting to get free, urging him to forget everything in existence but the feel of Han's lips on his. He was conscious of Han's other hand brushing through his hair, and stroking down the side of his face. And then it was inside Luke's jacket, and reaching for Luke's hip...

But then something like a tremor seemed to run through Han, and all of a sudden reality came crashing back in a cold wave as Han released him, stepping away with consternation written all over his face. 

"Hell. I'm... I'm sorry."

Luke found he couldn't move his eyes from Han's face, but somehow the words came easily. "It's okay."

"Ah, not you too," Han groaned. "What is it with everyone tellin' me everything's okay all the time? It's not okay! Okay?"

Luke managed a smile at that, but didn't speak. 

"You should'a just punched me or something." 

"Why would I want to do that?" Luke asked quietly.

"'Cause five seconds after I tell you your sister's thrown me out, I jump on top of you in a field. That'd be good enough reason for most people," Han muttered.

"It wasn't exactly like that."

Han exhaled loudly and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. He looked acutely uncomfortable. "Listen Luke. I didn't mean for that to happen. I was gonna tell you things were rough between Leia 'n me. That's it. All the rest of it... I'm sorry."

"Will you stop apologizing for everything? I think we need to talk."

"Yeah."

"I... Look, I'm supposed to meet up with Wedge soon. Can you get away this evening, or are you seeing...?"

"No. Leia wants some time to herself," Han put in quickly. "I'll be finished by dusk. You wanna go up the hill?"

Luke frowned, hesitated. "Let's go somewhere different. Maybe into Jira? And we'll have to make it later." He glanced at his chrono. "I don't sign off for another six hours."

Han nodded, and Luke knew that he'd understood his hesitation. The grove up the hill was a sanctuary shared by all of them, and was as much Leia's as theirs. To maintain the nature of the place, they all had to feel they could use it whenever they wanted. It would've felt like a violation of its purpose to go there tonight, because if she'd known why they were there, Leia would've felt compelled to stay away.


	6. Chapter 6

Leia hit the unpredictable door control in her new room for the second time, waiting until it finally slid open to let Luke in.

"How did you know where to find me?"

"They told me in Allocations," Luke explained.

"You've seen Han then?"

"Yeah – this afternoon." Luke moved across and put his arms around Leia. She hugged him back tightly. They stood without speaking for a few moments longer. 

"Are you okay? I know it's a stupid question."

Leia pulled out of the hug a little so she could see Luke's face. "It's not a stupid question. I'm fine – or at least I will be. It's going to take a bit of adjustment. It's funny how you forget what it's like being alone again. Daft when you think I never had time to have a relationship before. I should be used to it."

Luke gave a small grimace. "It's not something I know a lot about. I guess it hurts though."

"Yes, it does," Leia admitted. She hugged Luke again before moving apart from him. "But I'm not stupid enough to think we could've carried on. I've known for a long time."

"What – that things weren't right?" Luke sounded slightly startled, and Leia looked at him quizzically.

"What did Han tell you?"

Luke's hesitation was longer than it should have been, and Leia sighed inwardly, knowing that Luke would already be thinking of ways to work the situation out in a manner that would totally exclude any possible happiness for himself.

"He said you'd split up and things couldn't be sorted out. He kept apologizing. Said it was all his fault." He gave a half-hearted smile. "You know Han."

"He's told you, hasn't he?"

"What, exactly...?"

"I mean, he's told you the truth. All of it."

"He said there was someone else," Luke said carefully.

Leia moved back up to Luke and put her hand on his arm. "Don't keep it from me because you're worried about hurting me. Right at this exact moment, I'm more worried about you. He told you how he felt didn't he?"

"He... not really. I don't think he means anything by it. He's confused and upset, and he's not sure what he wants. I just happened to be there, I guess."

"You just happened to be there?" Leia repeated, exasperated. "What, you mean if he'd just happened to bump into Admiral Ackbar or General Madine instead he'd have declared his undying love for them?"

They stared at each other for a moment, thrown by the image Leia had conjured up. Leia couldn't decide whether she felt like laughing or crying, and Luke just looked confounded.

"You know what I'm trying to say." It was clearly a statement rather than a question.

"Oh, Luke. I know exactly what you're trying to say!" Leia grabbed hold of Luke's hand and pulled him across to the couch so they could sit down. "But you know as well as I do that you're just trying to spare my feelings."

"Leia–"

She cut in forcefully. "Han _does_ know what he wants. It might've taken him a while to get there, and I'm sure he's as confused as hell – but not about his feelings for you. This has _nothing whatsoever_ to do with you catching him on the rebound. You're the reason it can't work out between us."

"It's not like that at all! I never wanted to do that."

"Well of course you never wanted to. It wouldn't occur to you because of the way you are. But just listen to me for one minute. I'm not saying this to you because I want you to feel responsible for splitting us up. Don't start feeling guilty, because you've done nothing wrong. I'm only telling you because you don't seem able to see yourself the way other people see you. At least, not in the right way."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've no idea how important you are to us. I know how much _you_ care about _us_ , and you'd do anything you could to set things back to how they were. But you don't realize it works the other way round – that we'd do anything for you, too. You never think to take anything for yourself, only about how you can help keep everyone else happy."

Luke shook his head. "You're making me out to be something I'm not. I'm no different from anyone else."

"You think?" Leia smiled. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't value yourself enough, and that's why you're finding it hard to get your head round what Han's told you. You're struggling to accept that someone might actually want _you_ in preference to _me_ – or to anyone else for that matter." Leia put her hand up to Luke's cheek. "When are you going to realize? You're central to my life, and you're central to Han's too."

" _You're_ central to Han's life," Luke insisted.

Leia nodded slowly. "I know. But it's different. You'll think this is ridiculous, but I'd go so far as to say that Han's life pretty much revolves around you."

"No it doesn't! Han goes his own way – he always has."

"Yes, up to a point. But he's lived his life a certain way since meeting you. Loving people changes how you see the world and your place in it. You know that."

Luke inclined his head slightly, but didn't reply. Leia smiled at him again, knowing that understanding his place in the world was something Luke struggled with more than he ever admitted. She let it lie – the conversation wasn't about that particular issue. At least, not directly.

"I don't know about you, but I felt like I've spent the last couple of days arguing everything round and round in a big circle and not getting anywhere," she confessed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But if you've been arguing with Han, then you're bound to feel like that."

Leia laughed. "Funny, because he's said the same sort of thing about arguing with you."

"I can imagine."

Now she thought about it, Leia recalled how many of her conversations with Han had been about Luke. But because Luke was always in her mind anyway, it was something she'd not thought to question more. "Do you want a drink? Threepio brought me some supplies. I think I could do with one."

"Sure."

Leia got up and moved into the small adjoining kitchen. It didn't really justify the name, as it contained little else but a water boiler and a cooler. Until they had the time and opportunity to do the apartments up properly, they all mostly ate in the pilots' mess room.

Luke followed her, leaning against the wall that formed the alcove. He waited as Leia broke the seals on two flasks of ale, then took the one she proffered to him.

Leia raised her flask. "To new beginnings – of a kind."

"And to sorting all this out," Luke added.

"It can't be sorted out in the way you're thinking. There's only one way for it to go now."

Luke frowned. "It's too soon to say anything so final. I was gonna talk to him later on, but why don't you go instead?"

"No, Luke – you're doing it again. If you've arranged to see him, then good. Go and speak to him, but don't think you can talk him into anything. Whatever he wants or doesn't want won't change the way I feel about it. It's over, and it's going to stay over. Han and I will always be friends, we'll stay close, and we'll all still do things together. I won't let anything get in the way of that." Leia took a sip from the flask, then put it down on the worktop. "What happens now between you and Han is up to you, but you've got to approach it knowing that I–"

Luke interrupted sharply. "What d'you mean, what happens? Nothing's gonna happen! Surely you don't think I'd–" 

This time it was Leia who cut Luke's words off. "Please Luke, just bear in mind what I said to you before. Just, for once, think about yourself."

"This is crazy. You seem to have already assumed how things are gonna go, but how d'you think I feel about it all?"

"I already know how you feel about a lot of it. Guilty, responsible, confused... everything I expected you to feel but wished you didn't."

"Then you must realize how difficult I find all this?"

"Yes I do. And I won't lie to you and say I don't find it difficult too. But I'm also glad, because something needed to happen. Don't reject anything you think would upset me because that's not how I see it. All I'm asking is, keep an open mind."

Luke looked at her, then gave a slight shake of his head. He turned and walked back into the main room, moving over to the window where the view gave out onto the lights of Jira in the distance. He sipped the beer in silence for a while.

"What're you gonna do tonight?" he asked, still looking out into the twilight.

"I want some time to myself. I'm going to get sorted out in here. Threepio's arranging to have the rest of my things brought over."

Luke turned round to face her. "It'd be nice to train tomorrow night. D'you think you can get away?"

"I'd like that," Leia smiled. "I'll make sure I can."

Luke finished the beer and put the flask down, glancing at his chrono as he did so. "I have to get going. I need to do one last check with the team before signing off."

"Thanks for coming to find me."

"Any time. You know that. Call me in the morning will you, when you get a chance?"

"I will." She hit the door control to let Luke out.

He paused in the doorway. "You haven't asked me have you?"

"How you feel about Han?"

Luke nodded.

Leia stretched up and kissed Luke on the cheek. "No."

Luke looked at her for a moment more in silence, then kissed her in return.

 

After the door had closed behind him, Leia leaned back against it, all the peace that Luke's presence had brought disappearing as rapidly as it'd come. She'd told Luke the truth that she'd be okay eventually, but until that time arrived, she'd have to make do with the facade of composure that she doubted had fooled Luke for a second. She felt it collapse around her, at the same time as hot tears forced their way from her eyes. For a moment, she felt a sharp anger against Han, for all the emotional turmoil he'd caused. If only he'd just gone to Luke in the first place, all that time ago. But it was unjustified to cast blame. Han had tried all along to do the right thing, and had ended up as confused and troubled as she was. If Luke had ever shown so much as a hint of encouragement, Han might have thought to act on the true nature of his attraction to Luke. But Luke had never done that. In the beginning, Leia's interest in Han would've been the only explanation needed. But these days, Luke had other reasons for backing away from potential relationships.

***

Last-minute entanglements meant Han was running late, and as he stalked across the main hangar he was mentally listing the things he still needed to do before meeting Luke. Call Madine. Check with Allocations if they'd found him a smaller apartment. Shower. Change. Calm down. 

Trying to keep his mind on simple practical matters was harder than it should've been, but venturing into the possibilities of an evening with Luke seemed far too risky. Especially as Han was going to have to explain himself to Luke–

"Hey, Han! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Lando's voice cut across the noise of the open bay.

Han turned round, waiting for Lando to catch up. "Gotta get some calls made and then I'm goin' out."

"Where to?"

"Jira."

"With Leia?"

"No."

Lando waited a moment, then shook his head. "Well, is it some big secret or what?"

"I'm just meeting Luke."

Lando grinned. "Mind if I tag along? I wanna find out if he managed to get those land-levelers sorted."

Han shrugged. "Why don't you just get him on his comlink and ask him?"

Lando looked slightly taken aback. "Well sure, I could do that. I just thought it might be nice to go out with a couple of old friends. Not had much of a chance to do that lately."

Han attempted a conciliatory smile. "No – it's been kinda busy."

"You managed to pin him down at last then?"

"Who?"

"Luke, of course. Seems like every time I bump into you these days, you're off looking for him."

"He disappears a lot," Han pointed out defensively, fidgeting under Lando's gaze. He glanced around the hangar, looking for a possible escape route. Nothing obvious sprung to mind, so he turned back to Lando.

"Come with us then. We're only goin' to some bar. Probably be a bit quiet for you."

Lando eyed him curiously. "Look, if you wanna have a private night out with Luke – just say so. I'll go find Wedge or somethin'."

Han rolled his eyes. "I don't want a private night out." He grabbed hold of Lando's arm and dragged him nearer to the wall, out of earshot of passing pilots and mechanics. "It's a bit difficult, okay?"

Now it was Lando's turn to shrug. "Okay."

"Look, I was gonna tell you, but I've not had a chance yet. I wanted to tell you myself before it gets all round the mess room and told in a million and one wrong ways."

"Tell me what?" 

"Leia 'n I, we've... well, we've split up."

Lando's eyes widened with surprise, and Han had the distinct impression he'd been expecting Han to say something else entirely. Han wondered what it might've been.

"I'm sorry to hear that buddy. Are you okay?"

Han nodded, then shook his head. "I feel like the galaxy's biggest asshole if you really wanna know."

"It was your idea then?"

"No. Leia wanted to end it. It's my fault though. I've messed things up big time."

"There's no chance of the two of you...?"

Han shook his head.

"That's a great shame," Lando said. "Does Luke know? Or is that why you're goin' out?"

"He knows," Han put in quickly. "But I need to talk to him. You know, with Leia being his sister 'n everything..."

"Sure, I understand." Lando said. "Must be awkward." He gave Han a concerned look. "Does Luke...?" he began, but seemed to think better of his question.

"Does Luke what?"

"Nothing. Just wondered if he was okay, or upset about it."

"Well that's what I'm gonna find out ain't it?" Han growled.

"Right – you'd better get goin' then. Let me know when you fancy that drink," Lando said, moving off. A moment later he stopped and turned round. "Good luck with everything. I mean that." He walked away, leaving Han to stare after his retreating form.


	7. Chapter 7

Mon Mothma tapped in the code to her private quarters, exhaustion causing her to lean against the wall as she did so. As her door slid open, she heard the sound of the lift-tube behind her whirr to a halt. Steeling herself for what would most likely be another urgent matter that couldn't wait till morning, she turned around.

Leia smiled at her, and Mon Mothma relaxed with almost guilty relief. Even if this was business, Leia's company was never tiresome.

"Are you coming to see me?" she asked.

"Yes. Do you mind?" Leia looked apologetic. Free time was a rarity and usually jealously guarded if possible. It went without saying that Leia wouldn't want to intrude on Mon Mothma's.

"I was just about to pour myself a very large brandy," Mon Mothma confessed. "Come and have one with me."

Mon Mothma's apartment looked very much like all the others in the wing, although she'd made an effort to make the place her own by adding personal items. She caught Leia's wistful glance around, and understood where the shadows in her eyes came from. Mon Mothma was deeply attached to her homeworld, and the items she owned reflected this. Leia, of course, had nothing to compare from Alderaan. She'd simply lost everything. Mon Mothma knew that Leia's lack of possessions was irrelevant to her – but their absence served as a reminder of what had gone.

Mon Mothma handed her a full glass of amber liquor, and sank thankfully into an armchair, indicating to Leia to do the same.

"The senator from Kermian is always so difficult," she murmured, knowing she'd have nothing but agreement from Leia.

"I saw the summary of her requests," Leia said, with a light laugh.

"Demands more like. Why do people think we're a bottomless pit of resources?"

"They're just looking for an easy answer. We've found out the hard way there just isn't one."

Mon Mothma raised her glass. "To another day dealt with."

Leia grimaced. "I don't know how well I've really dealt with mine."

"Problems?"

"Personal ones," Leia admitted.

Mon Mothma put her glass down, concern pushing all her tiredness aside. "You're alright aren't you?" Looking closely at Leia, Mon Mothma noticed the puffiness around her eyes. She looked almost as though she'd been crying.

"Oh, yes. I'm not ill or anything." Leia paused. "I wanted you to know... Han and I have split up."

"Oh, Leia. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"It's complicated. But it's been building up for a long while. Really, ever since we got together."

"Can't you work things out?"

"No, we can't do that. We haven't fallen out, just agreed to be friends from now on."

"Can I help? I mean, I don't know what I could do, but if there is anything..."

Leia smiled. "Just listening to me helps. I was going to spend the evening by myself, and that would've meant brooding. But what's done is done. I've just got to get on with things."

"You're really certain it's final? I've had terrible rows in the past, which I never thought could be resolved. But the next day they didn't seem so bad."

"It's not like that. But it _is_ final. Earlier this evening I moved into Apartment 11." 

"You're just below me then," Mon Mothma pointed out. "It'll be nice to have you near – but I'm sorry for the reasons."

"It's odd," Leia said, her expression thoughtful, "but in some ways I'm relieved. It was always there, at the back of my mind, that something wasn't right. Call it intuition."

Mon Mothma studied Leia. It wasn't like her to be so forthcoming about personal concerns. But maybe this break-up with Han was just one thing too many, coming as it did not long after her discovery of the truth about Vader. Leia had demonstrated her extraordinary strength of mind enough times, but even people such as her benefited from offloading their troubles occasionally. And perhaps Leia saw this as losing Han for a second time. Having worked so hard to free him from that Hutt, she must've hoped he'd be back in her life for a long time. 

"Maybe Han finds it difficult to adjust?" she suggested, more for the sake of saying something than because she felt she had any insight. "After answering to no-one but himself, being more committed might make him uncomfortable."

Leia shook her head, "That's not it. He's very committed. To me, to the Alliance, to his friends... In the early days, when he first got involved with Luke, he always talked of leaving, but I think even then he'd found something to make him stay. It wasn't his idea to split up, it was mine. Han would've stuck it out forever if I'd asked him to."

She gave a slightly rueful smile. "You know, it's funny, but I keep remembering when we first met – Han, Luke and me. We'd made it back to Yavin IV, but we knew the Empire had tracked us there. The fighters were gearing up, ready to go, and Han was leaving. Luke was furious with him, and very upset too. I told him that Han had to find his own path. That no-one could choose it for him. But then I ended up trying to do that very thing just a few years later."

"But Han could've left at any time and didn't," Mon Mothma protested. "It was his choice to stay, surely? It sounds like you're blaming yourself."

"I don't really think anyone's to blame. Extreme circumstances can make you see things in a certain way, but it might not be the right way. Sorry – I'm not going to be making much sense, but it's difficult to explain. And there's someone else involved, which makes it impossible for me to say any more."

"Of course. I'm here for whatever you want to tell me – nothing more."

Leia looked back at her for a long moment. "I think," she said slowly, "that if you take me out of the picture, you'll see where the problem lies. I think you'll understand."

Mon Mothma shook her head, a little confused and not really following Leia's meaning. She changed tack slightly. "Han _will_ stay with us?"

"Oh yes," Leia said. She paused, frowning. "Unless... You know, maybe there is something you could do."

"Go on."

"It's going to sound very odd, and I'm not sure I can explain it properly."

"Well, you try and I'll listen."

Leia took a long swallow of her drink. "It's about Luke."

"Oh?"

"He.. I... Oh, this is so difficult. He wouldn't like me talking like this, and I don't want to go behind his back."

"Showing concern for someone isn't the same as going behind someone's back. And I'm guessing you _are_ concerned about him?"

"Do you remember when we came to see you? To tell you about Vader?"

Mon Mothma smiled. "I'm hardly likely to forget am I?"

Leia inclined her head, acknowledging that point. "You were surprised about Vader being a father. From the point of view of Jedi rules, or something like that."

"Yes, but those rules have been lost for years."

"It's the fact they existed at all that's the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Luke's conflicted over what he feels is the right way to go. Part of this is because he thinks the Jedi are meant to be alone, for their own safety and the protection of others."

Mon Mothma frowned, but didn't speak.

"I don't know what to think. I only know that we both need to set aside our fear of the past and talk about it."

"Haven't you done that?"

"Not really. Luke wants to know what I remember about our mother, but for some reason I can't talk about it. Every time he brings it up I manage to change the subject. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just not ready. With Vader and everything..."

"Well that's understandable. You have some recollection of your mother then?"

Leia sighed. "I don't know. I don't see how I can, and that's what I find so hard to accept. Because I was adopted as a baby. Father – Bail – told me she died when I was very young, but somehow I still have this memory of her. But what if it's not real? What if it's just wishful thinking?"

"And it's important to you that the memory is a real one." Mon Mothma didn't make it a question, because Leia's uneasiness with the conversation was sufficient answer to that. 

Leia nodded. "Yes. But I think if I talk to Luke I'll discover it isn't. There's so little of my past left to hang on to. Everything's turning out to be different. I can't even trust my own memories."

Mon Mothma nodded, remaining silent and hoping that Leia would choose not to question her further about her own memories of the past. She was too uncertain, and the subject matter too charged to make any kind of assumptions.

"That day, when we came to see you," Leia continued, "there was something you remembered, wasn't there?"

"Just vague bits and pieces. Nothing specific," Mon Mothma explained, keeping her tone casual to disguise her inner dismay.

"I think it was," Leia disagreed. "I don't want to talk about it right now. But would you talk to Luke?"

Mon Mothma sighed. "To be honest Leia, I've been waiting for him to come back to me. I knew he'd read something into my reactions, just as you did. And I do need to talk to him about another matter. A short assignment. I was going to call him tomorrow anyway."

"An assignment? For Rogue Squadron?"

"No. This would be in his capacity as a Jedi."

"Oh, I see."

"It's entirely up to him, of course. He may not wish to do it."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to help in any way he can. It's just so new to him, being seen like that... officially."

"I understand that. And it may not happen anyway. Forgive me if I don't explain in any more detail tonight. I'm not being secretive – just cautious. I'm expecting a visitor sometime tomorrow. If he arrives safely, it'll be his assignment too."

"You're expecting this visitor might run into trouble?"

Mon Mothma retrieved her glass and sipped at the contents. "No. I've just spent too many years trying to avoid tempting fate to start doing it now."

Leia smiled at her. "I know what you mean. But it sounds like you won't get a chance to have any sort of private word with Luke."

"I promise I'll try. But you know, whatever Luke decides to do, it'll be his choice. Nothing I can say will change that, and... what if I make things worse?"

"What could be worse than what he's learned already?" Leia said. "I just have this funny idea that Luke needs to unravel the past in order to see the future."

"But what if it can't be unraveled? I know next to nothing about the Jedi. Besides, Luke's an individual with his own identity, living in very different times. The galaxy's not the same – almost nothing's the same now. We've all moved on."

"Yes. It's not about moving on, he's more than capable of that. It's about letting others into his life."

"You, do you mean?"

"Partly." Leia sank further back into the chair. The overhead glowpanel accentuated the dark shadows beneath her eyes and highlighted the fatigue etched across her face. "But I'm really talking about relationships."

Leia's comments about the old Jedi rules made more sense now. Mon Mothma was, if anything, a realist, but even she felt the attraction of wanting people to be happy and circumstances to be perfect. However, she wasn't sure how Luke fitted in with this ideal. He wasn't like anybody else she knew.

"If there ever is anyone, he'll make his own mind up," she remarked.

Leia sat up again, mild amusement pushing aside the signs of tiredness on her face. "Oh, there is someone. There always has been."

 

After Leia had left, Mon Mothma remained sitting in her chair, trying to summon up the energy to take a shower. It was a minor miracle that her comlink hadn't gone off, or that nobody else had come to the door. 

She had a great deal of sympathy for Leia's preoccupation with the past. Even though Leia had voiced it as anxiety over Luke and claimed not to want to know more, Mon Mothma was well-practiced in reading between the lines. Leia was as much in need of knowledge as Luke was, but at the same time she was frightened that discovering more would also mean losing something else. But Mon Mothma could understand their need for clarification. It was fine for her to talk about moving on – her past was still there, as intact as it'd ever been. For Luke and Leia, they'd had their old identities more-or-less thrown back in their faces. 

The people they'd thought they'd been no longer existed. Leia, who'd already lost so much, was clearly afraid to lose those hazy memories of part of her childhood that might never even have happened. Mon Mothma knew too little of Luke's childhood, and wished she'd paid more attention when General Dodonna had told her about the farmboy from Tatooine who'd joined them so spectacularly. At that moment in time, there'd been too much to think about. Amazement at their narrow escape, relief over the destruction of the Death Star, an almost sadistic pleasure at the death of Tarkin, bewilderment over the re-emergence of Obi-Wan Kenobi and, predominantly, grief over the murder of Bail and the destruction of Alderaan. 

Luke and Leia were two individuals who'd grown up worlds apart, and had life-styles so hugely different that no-one could ever have expected their paths to cross. Their reunion was startling in its unlikelihood, until you began to consider the reality beneath. Mon Mothma didn't fully understand it, but within each of them they seemed to have a part of each other that went far beyond shared genes. It had inexorably drawn them together, but as well as bringing obvious joy, it also brought a new kind of fear. Knowing what their father had become, how could anyone blame them for looking inwards, and wondering if those same traits lay within, waiting to surface? 

And Luke was searching for clues. Not only to his father's past, but to the reasons for his fall. It was inevitable that he'd want to know just what role his mother might have played in that. And equally inevitable that Luke would turn to those with some association with past events, even if the connection was a tenuous one, like her own.

And she had no evidence. Nothing but the vaguest feeling that something had played out in those last days of the Republic. Something that had happened just below the surface of public awareness, and which had brushed the edges of her own political activities. 

The circumstances surrounding the death of Senator Amidala had been puzzling even back then. If there were any grounds at all for her suspicions, those events now looked much more sinister. Although she and the senator hadn't had a chance to become good friends, Mon Mothma thought they might've done so. And if she'd lived, Mon Mothma had no doubt that Padmé would have been as active as she and Bail in the formative Rebel Alliance. Mon Mothma recalled how Bail had talked of Padmé with grief. He'd lost a friend, for the two of them had grown close in the closing stages of the Clone Wars. And it was possible, in keeping true to that friendship, that Bail had done a great deal more than Mon Mothma had realized.

She resolved to contact Luke immediately rather than wait until morning. At least she could fulfill that small request of Leia's. She didn't yet know what she'd say to him, and she realized that she was now doing just what she'd told Leia she preferred not to do. She was tempting fate, because she was relying on the visitor she was expecting tomorrow to point her in the right direction. 

Mon Mothma yawned, and swirled the last of the brandy round in her glass. She felt intensely weary, much of it to do with the emotional drain that responsibility over those she cared about brought. Luke, who hid his troubles deep inside, and seemed to live his life solely in pursuit of others' safety and happiness. And Leia, as strong as Luke and just as motivated, but equally as troubled, now struggling to come to terms with a failed relationship that might've helped lay her ghosts to rest. 

And then there was Han, who would probably always remain just as much of a mystery to Mon Mothma. Outwardly confident, volatile and difficult – those characteristics were barely the sum of his parts. Underneath was someone much more complex. Someone that even Leia had implied she'd not reached. The odd words Leia had used came to mind – _if you take me out of the picture..._

It was hard to think of Han without visualizing Leia, because ever since Mon Mothma had known Han, he'd been with Leia in some form or other. But there were his other friends and companions too. In her mind, Chewbacca and Han were practically inseparable. Then there was Lando. Although they spent a huge proportion of their time arguing, Han and Lando were still good friends. But they weren't as close as Han and Luke. 

Mon Mothma put her glass down slowly on the table beside her. It was only one little incident out of many, and there was no reason why it, out of all the others, should come to mind now. A meeting in her office, arguing the case for sending Luke out alone on a difficult recon mission. Luke had wanted to go, but Madine had preferred to send Wedge. To the General, the possibility of losing Luke was too high a risk to take, and he'd clearly hoped to cut down on Luke's more dangerous assignments. But Luke hadn't wanted to be kept under wraps, and Han had understood that, coming up with the one single argument that threw the balance in Luke's favor. And Luke had smiled at Han. It'd been a straightforward expression of gratitude, but Han's reaction had seemed far from simple to Mon Mothma. Perhaps she'd been imagining things, because nobody else had reacted as though Han had done anything other than smile back. 

Looking back on it now, and remembering other little occurrences, it seemed to Mon Mothma that when Luke's attention was on Han, a subtle change seemed to come over Han. She hadn't thought much about it before. Wars forged strong bonds, and those two had been through so much together, it was hardly surprising they were close. But in the light of what she'd just learned... _there's someone else involved..._

"Sweet stars," Mon Mothma murmured to herself. "What a mess."

***

Hurrying towards the lift-tube, Luke stopped midway along the corridor. With a glance at his chrono and a stifled curse, he turned back. There was nothing unusual about the fact that he was late, and Han was hardly likely to be on time either. But Luke was feeling strangely wound up over the prospect of seeing Han again, and it was making him more conscious of things not going to plan. 

Except he didn't really have a plan, he acknowledged, as he tapped in the code to his apartment. Inside, R2-D2 greeted his return with a disapproving beep. 

"Sorry Artoo. I just forgot. I'm gonna to be late back tonight," Luke explained. "You don't need to worry."

Artoo whirred back at him plaintively, querying the arrangements.

"No – you can't come this time. I'm only meeting Han. We're gonna take a speeder into Jira."

Luke touched the droid affectionately on his dome, and headed back out again. Ever since Endor, Artoo had been more than usually anxious to know Luke's plans, to the extent that Luke found himself worrying about the droid when he was called away unexpectedly, or held up for longer than anticipated. Han found the whole business hilarious, and missed few opportunities to ask Luke if he'd checked with Artoo before going out. 

Luke suspected Artoo's fears went back to his confrontation with the Emperor and Vader, but no matter how hard he tried to get Artoo to explain, the droid refused to elaborate. It was as though something in the past had traumatized him – if such a thing was possible with droids – and Luke's departure to the Death Star had reactivated that distress.

Luke was certain Artoo hadn't expected him to return at all, but he didn't think Artoo believed he would die there either. It left only one other obvious scenario – that Luke might've chosen to remain there. Why that possibility should've entered Artoo's thought processes was a mystery. But after Luke had rejoined the others, Artoo had stuck to him like a swampleech, following him around and needing constant reassurance that Luke wasn't just going to disappear into the night and never return.

The droid's behavior might have driven anyone else to distraction, but Luke didn't see why Artoo should have less consideration than anyone or anything else. One day, Luke intended to get to the bottom of it, but right now, he had a problem of a totally different nature to occupy him. Han.

He'd realized, somewhere between the moment when Han had taken hold of his wrist, and the first words he'd managed to find after Han had kissed him, that he had a lot more to worry about than controlling his feelings. And if he'd imagined he was at least half-way towards handling emotions that contradicted Yoda's advice, then he was better at fooling himself than he'd believed. 

But he hadn't fooled Leia, and the knowledge was like a sharp rebuke. Because even knowing how much she would've been hurting hadn't prevented him from wanting that kiss to last indefinitely. But it was back to the same old arguments. That wanting something was a far cry from having something, and nothing was ever straightforward. And Leia telling him to keep an open mind was hardly justification to completely disregard her feelings. And that didn't even touch on the issue of what was right from the Jedi perspective...

The beeping of his comlink alerted him to the fact that he'd traveled too far down in the lift-tube. So much for keeping his mind on where he was and what he was doing.

He got out anyway, partly because it was easier to answer his comlink, but also because it averted the possibility of others wondering why Luke Skywalker was wasting time going up and down in a lift tube.

Mon Mothma sounded strange, but with the way the day was turning out, it would've been too easy to make something out of nothing, so Luke put it down to tiredness. 

"I've got to see Admiral Ackbar first thing, but I should have some time straight after that," he said, curious as to why Mon Mothma was calling him at this time of the evening.

He signed off, having agreed to a morning meeting that seemed to have no specific purpose as far as he could make out. 

He glanced around the storage basement, looking for an alternative way up to the small transport bays. He spotted the ascent tunnel, and sprinted towards it.

Luke reached the speeder park at around the same time as Han, who came hurriedly through the opposite tunnel, looking as harassed as Luke felt. Han's steps faltered on sighting Luke, just as Luke had felt himself slow down instinctively on spotting Han. They looked at each other for a moment with more awkwardness than they'd ever shown each other before.

Han cleared his throat. "You managed to get away then?"

"Yeah – got stopped a few times on the way here. Ackbar cornered me wanting a run-down on the new X-wing firing sights. You know how much he likes to talk. I've gotta see him in the morning. Said I'd fill him in properly then. And Mon Mothma called me–" Luke checked himself, knowing he was talking for the sake of talking, and his words were coming out far too quickly. The really odd thing was that Han hadn't seemed to notice.

"I bumped into Lando. He wanted to join us," Han said.

"Oh... is he going to?"

"Nope," Han said shortly. He seemed to be studying Luke's face as though trying to work out whether Luke was relieved or disappointed by that. Luke thought maybe he should find out why Lando wasn't coming, but Han changed the subject before he had a chance to ask. 

"You got somewhere in mind to go?"

"There's a bar I know down in the old town. I've been there with the Rogues a few times. It's okay."

Han nodded. "Sounds good to me."


	8. Chapter 8

The tavern in Jira's old town wasn't quite what Han had expected. It was much smaller than he'd imagined, but considerably more crowded. Most of the patrons had gathered round the bar, and the attraction soon became obvious. The owner served spicy griddlecakes, and the trade in these was almost as vigorous as the trade in local ale. Han could see why the Rogues had homed in on the place – the whole lot of them spent half their lives thinking with their stomachs. 

Luke and Han squeezed their way through the crush to a small table at the back. Han had to admit it was pretty cozy, if a bit noisy. A server droid, of the type that usually ignored customers, recognized Luke and slid up to them.

"Have you had a chance to eat today?" Han asked Luke.

"Well, I was force-fed greshimi rolls by Creggan's mother," Luke admitted. "Not sure if that counts."

Han gave him a sympathetic grin. Greshimi rolls were a local specialty beloved these days only by a diminishing minority. Traditionally, the Arudine people served them to guests, who usually had to eat at least two. That is, if the first one didn't permanently glue your teeth together. They were an acquired taste, but Han had yet to find anybody who'd actually acquired it. 

They ordered helpings of extra spicy griddlecakes to counteract the phantom tooth-ache produced by the mere mention of greshimi, along with glasses of dark ale, which the droid brought over immediately.

Up until this moment, Han considered how they'd reverted back to easy, casual talk without even making a verbal decision to do so. It had just happened like that. In the speeder, they'd steered clear of discussing anything awkward, and now it looked as though they'd continue in that same manner throughout the night. But Han's impulsive behavior of the afternoon still hung over him, and he needed to clear the air. So far, he'd refused to consider anything beyond the basic concept that he needed to apologize yet again, if he could find a way to steer the conversation in the right direction. 

In the end, Luke did it for him, but the slightly deeper breath he took before speaking was an indication to Han that Luke was nowhere near as comfortable with the situation as he appeared.

"I went to see Leia."

Han looked up warily from his ale. "And?"

"She's upset."

"Hey, how bad d'you wanna make me feel?" Han muttered.

"I thought you'd rather I was just honest about it. You know she's gonna be upset anyway. She's hiding it of course."

"Not from you, obviously."

"Why would she?"

Han said nothing for a moment, just stared into the dark depths of his beer. "So – what did you say to her?"

"That I was sorry and wished I could help."

"Yeah, I worked that bit out for myself. I meant more specific things."

"What, like about this afternoon?"

Han tore his eyes away from his glass and met Luke's gaze. "Yeah."

"Of course I didn't tell her that. She did ask me if you'd told me the truth though."

Han grimaced. "And you wouldn't lie to her."

"I told her you'd said there was someone else, but you hadn't exactly said anything specific, which is true."

Han snorted with derision. "So the tactful hint I dropped you wasn't obvious enough?"

"Actually, it probably wasn't your most subtle moment."

Despite himself, Han grinned. "You know I can never keep my mouth shut."

Luke grinned back at him. "I've noticed."

Slightly flustered, Han took refuge once again in his beer glass. "Is she okay? I mean, with you?" he asked after a few moments, poise regained.

"I don't know," Luke confessed. "I think she was more worried about me feeling guilty."

Han sighed. "I guess there's no point in me tellin' you none of this is your fault, but I'm gonna say it anyway."

"It's a bit difficult to accept that though."

Han turned to face Luke again. "Why? Why's it difficult to accept? You never asked for any of this. You didn't know anything."

"If I'd made my mind up earlier on about what I'm going to do with my life, I might not've been around to cause trouble."

"You haven't caused trouble. _I've_ caused trouble. Anyway, it wouldn't have made any difference if you were here or not."

"How can you say that?"

"I've already told you I'd feel like leaving if you left. And 'out of sight, out of mind' doesn't work in real life."

Luke held Han's gaze for a moment, then looked down. "I know."

The droid arrived with their food, breaking the small tension that had arisen between them. Dealing with the griddlecakes distracted them even more. They were seriously messy to eat and they had to concentrate in order to avoid dropping most of the contents all over the table. They were also extremely spicy, causing Han to signal rather desperately to the droid for ale refills. As usual, Luke – brought up on a diet of fiery desert spices – was eating them as though they were the mildest thing available. Han wondered just how hot something would have to be to faze him.

After they'd finished, the droid took their empty plates, refilled their glasses yet again, and handed them warm, damp cloths for their hands. Han wiped his across his forehead. 

"Should've had the mild ones," Luke suggested.

"And let you get one up on me?"

Luke laughed, and reached for his glass.

"D'you think Leia will be okay? Be honest," Han asked, picking up their earlier conversation.

Luke nodded slowly. "She needs a bit of time to adjust to it, but she'll be alright. It sounds odd, but I think she's relieved it's happened." He frowned slightly. "She also said she's realized things have been this way for a long time."

"Yeah, I guess," Han agreed resignedly.

"How long?"

Han stared at him, knowing that his answer would most likely bring another startled look to those eyes that looked back at him with an intensity only Luke seemed to possess. 

"Maybe from the very beginning."

Han saw the surprise, replaced immediately by another quizzical frown.

"D'you mean the beginning of you getting together with Leia? Since Endor?"

Just a few short months, was what Luke was asking. It would be a let-out clause for them both. If it was just a few months, then it might turn out to be nothing. Maybe in a few more weeks things would have turned around again and they could put all this behind them. Trouble was, it wasn't true, and Han didn't want a let-out clause in any case. He had no idea what Luke wanted, but if it was the easy answer, he was going to be disappointed.

The intense gaze was back on him, and Han's insides seemed to turn over beneath it. "I meant the real beginning. Since Yavin."

A momentary pause. "Since Yavin? But you've never said even the slightest thing to me..."

"Would you've wanted me to?" Han challenged. "You never showed any sign that it would've been welcome."

"But there was Leia. You were interested in her right from the start."

"You thought about that?"

Luke shrugged. "It seemed pretty obvious."

Han ignored the comment, because now he had questions of his own. "If I ask you something will you give me a straight answer?"

"If I can."

"So – you're already giving yourself an excuse for _not_ giving me one?"

"Don't twist my words round."

"Yes or no, Luke?" Han demanded.

"Why don't you just get on and ask it, then you'll find out."

"Okay... Look, if there hadn't been Leia–"

"But there was," Luke interrupted.

"You told me to get on and ask, but you're already making it difficult and I've not even finished," Han said with exasperation.

Luke held up a hand in apology. "Sorry."

Han tried again. "If you hadn't thought I was interested in Leia, would you ever have..., I mean would you have thought that... maybe you'd, well...?"

There was another delay before Luke replied. "Is that the question? And I'm supposed to give you a straight answer?"

"Well, maybe I didn't put it very well," Han muttered.

"That would be one way of looking at it."

"I think you probably know what I'm trying to say, so help me out a bit here. I'm fallin' over myself tryin' to be tactful."

Luke gave a small sigh. "I think I know what you're trying to say, but I don't see how I can give you a simple answer."

"Why not?"

"Because it's just _not_ simple is it?"

"Not if you've got anything to do with it."

"I'm not trying to get out of answering it," Luke insisted. "Okay, going all the way back to Yavin, and maybe even the earliest days on Hoth, if you'd shown any interest I might've been interested back."

"Only might've been?"

"Yes. Back then, I never really knew what you thought of me, deep down. I guess I thought maybe you didn't take me that seriously. You saw me as some idealistic dreamer with a lot of nonsense in my head. If you'd said anything to me then, I don't know if I'd have really believed you."

"Great – so you didn't trust me much back then?"

"That's not what I said."

"Sounded like that to me. But you've got a funny way of looking at things."

"What d'you mean by that?"

"You don't think much of yourself do you?"

Luke shrugged, looking puzzled.

"You say 'idealistic' like I use it as a swear word. Yeah, you were idealistic, and you still are, but I don't see anything wrong in that. And you don't think any of that rubbed off on me at all? That maybe you showed me some things are worth stickin' around for? Listen Luke – you came straight from the farm, and your next stop was the Death Star. And you took it like a walk in the park. Then you go into battle in a ship you've never flown before, watch as everyone around you gets blasted to the stars, and never once questioned your convictions. And you thought I didn't take you seriously?"

Luke gave Han a smile that caused further rearrangement of Han's insides. "I'm saying I was pretty naïve back then. I don't see things like that now. And I've always trusted you."

Han shook his head. "I didn't see you as naïve, but you'd never been off Tatooine. You just didn't know what was out there. But it wouldn't have made any difference if you'd known what you were up against. You'd have done it all anyway."

"You were with me for most of it."

"Yeah. It's what I'm tryin' to tell you. But you've not given me much of an answer yet have you?"

"No, I... Actually, we're getting some attention," Luke murmured.

Han looked up and met the curious gaze of a nearby table of off-duty pilots. They looked away quickly, but their interest was evident. Han didn't recognize any of them, but knew from experience it didn't work the other way round. He was only sitting next to Luke, and he hadn't said anything conclusive, even if they could've heard him properly, which he doubted. But body language was something else, and clearly the group had seen something to make them pay attention. 

It was only a matter of days before most of the galaxy heard the news that Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa had split up, and the last thing any of them needed was a whole load of speculative and lurid comment over the Holonews on just how close he was to Luke Skywalker. He didn't really care about himself, people could say what they liked and be damned. But he did care that Leia would be hurt by it, because anything reported was always grossly distorted, and the gossip channels would like nothing better than to home in on the fact that Han would appear to have wasted no time whatsoever in finding someone else. 

Also, he didn't want to inflict on Luke any more unwanted publicity. Luke was news wherever he went in any case, but he'd have more than enough to deal with once the truth about Vader finally became public. 

"Shall we settle up and get out of here?" Han suggested.

"I'll do it," Luke said, standing up and reaching for his jacket. "See you outside."

 

Wandering off down the winding streets of the old town they headed away, by tacit agreement, from where they'd left the speeder. The night air was mild and welcome after the heat of the tavern. They had no desire to rush back to the overcrowded base.

"Doesn't it get on your goddamn nerves – always being in the spotlight? Feels like you can't move sometimes without someone watching."

Luke smiled. "I know what you mean. When this gets out, it's gonna be hard for a while, but people will soon forget all about it and find something else to talk about."

"Yeah. Makes you wonder why they wanna bother in the first place."

"You're celebrities. Heroes of the Rebellion," Luke replied dryly. "Means you don't get to have a private life anymore. At least, not one you don't share with half the galaxy."

"I just wish there was some way I could stop Leia having to go through it."

"Short of putting on a whole pretense that you've not split up, I don't think there is. All it'll take is one word of gossip getting out, and it'll be leading news. Anyway, I think Leia will handle it better than you think. She's more used to public life."

"So if we put a brave face on it we'll all emerge unscathed," Han said with weary self-mockery.

"Don't blame yourself for the publicity. You still have to carry on living your life, and trying not to let them bother you."

"Can't be easy for you either," Han pointed out. "You get some weird reactions wherever you go."

"A lot of people have strong views about the Jedi, even if they've never met one before. Anyway, this is nothing – wait till the news about Vader gets out."

"D'you want it to?" Han asked.

Luke gave a small grimace. "I don't know. I don't like living under this secret all the time. It feels like it's gonna shatter and come crashing down on me. And it's like we're saying we don't trust people enough to know the truth."

"Trouble is, we dunno if we can."

"Yeah, I know. But it's like Mon Mothma says, if we hide it away, people will think we've got a more sinister agenda."

"You'll have everyone behind you – the people that matter I mean."

"I'll still have to prove I'm not a threat. That's why I need to make sure I do the right thing. Make the right decisions."

So they were back round to that again, and Han sighed inwardly at the unease this conversation always induced in him. Just lately, even before the break-up with Leia, it had begun to feel as though he was walking on sand. That his life had become shifting and impermanent. The irony of it was that his life _had_ been like that before he'd got involved with the Rebel Alliance, and that was just how he'd liked it. Never knowing what the next day would bring. No real plans, no home, no ties. Just him and Chewie and open space. 

Before Endor, he'd thought he'd known just where he stood. But this latest turning point in his life disturbed him. It'd be easy if it was only _his_ options for the future that were the problem. But it wasn't – it was everyone else's. Because they'd all reached this same point, where they were looking back on what they'd done and wondering where they went from here. It was unsettling and Han knew he didn't like it, even though he'd been expecting it from Luke the very evening he'd returned to them on Endor.

They walked along in silence, preoccupied with their respective thoughts. Instinctively, they headed away from built-up areas in an unconscious wish for privacy. The ground grew increasingly irregular as they left the streets behind them, and around them now were the rough stone walls of Jira's outer limits. 

Han walked on ahead to look over one of the walls. Below it, the ground banked steeply, but it was impossible to see much beyond a dense shadowy drop to the open plains beneath the town. In the distance he could make out the lights of the military base, several miles away.

"Funny to think of 'em all over there," he said. Luke had joined him at the wall, and together they looked out across the dark expanse.

Luke threw him a glance. "D'you wanna head back before we get completely lost?"

"We won't," Han said confidently, peering at their surroundings. It should've been straightforward, looking back towards the way they'd come, but Han now found it impossible to distinguish one rough track from another. "Course, it might be too late for that," he added.

"It might be," Luke agreed.

"You know, we seem to be spending a lot of our time these days standing around old walls."

"Not just standing."

"Yeah, well, about that..." Han muttered. "I sorta hoped, tonight, we'd get to talk more. Seems like we've not said very much, and I want you to know I feel bad about it. It shouldn't have happened."

"There's nothing to feel bad about. And I wanted to talk more too. But we don't have to rush back. We can go find another bar if you like – somewhere more off the beaten track."

"I think we're a bit off the beaten track already."

Luke smiled but said nothing, and Han guessed he was waiting for the question Han had been trying to ask all evening. 

He asked it suddenly, impatient with his own reticence. After all, it had been in his mind since Luke had left him standing by the old training ground wall that afternoon. "Why didn't you push me away?"

A small hesitation, then, "Why would I?"

Han gave a small sigh of frustration. "You never answer my questions – just throw another one back at me. Maybe you should've done."

"Why?"

" 'Cause then I'd know exactly how you feel. Instead, I'm pretty clueless. Feels like I'm stumblin' around in the dark."

Luke ran a hand through his hair, a small frown creasing his brow. "I know I haven't given you any proper answers. It's just that it's so difficult to explain."

"How about if you just try."

Luke hoisted himself up to sit on the wall – probably to give himself a few seconds to think. "It's like I said earlier, about the first days on Hoth. I wasn't sure what I would've done. Later on, before Bespin, I _do_ know. But things were much more straightforward then. There were no hidden agendas to everything. At least, I didn't realize there were. Then after Endor, everything was suddenly much easier than I'd expected, because there was Leia."

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," Han admitted. "What was much easier?"

"It made it easy for me because you were with Leia."

"I still don't understand, and I don't get what you mean by hidden agendas. _My_ hidden agendas?" 

Luke's reply came back with a kind of hurried intensity, as if he was trying to convey the meaning of his puzzling words through the tone of his voice. "No, not yours. I meant those where others could manipulate my feelings. People like Vader, and the Emperor. And it's like I've told you before – I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I don't know if I should be planning to spend it alone. I don't know if those old Jedi rules Mon Mothma was talking about were there for this reason. I don't know whether these feelings either shouldn't exist, or I should be capable of moving past them. I don't know whether I showed I'd thrown aside what the Emperor said was inside me, or whether I just showed it was there all along. I don't know if I'd proved something to him, or he'd proved something to me."

Han moved up to Luke swiftly, placing a firm grip on one of his arms.

"The only thing the Emperor proved to you was that he had no idea what true strength is. And it's got nothing to do with the sick, fucking mind games he was playing with you." His words came out rough and angry, and he knew the pressure of his fingers on Luke's arm would be close to painful, but he couldn't help himself. Something in Luke's words had stirred the now familiar, simmering anxiety he had inside, that something was about to change irrevocably.

"It was _you_ who proved things – and maybe you're right about some of it if you're talkin' about the anger," he continued. "But that's only a tiny part of what you showed him. And we've been through this before, but I'm gonna say it again. We've all got some sorta darkness in us, and you can call it what you like. Anger, fear, jealousy – whatever. For most of us it just stays that way 'cause we can't turn it into something else. But you can. It's a fact, 'n we both know it. The point is, you recognized it, and that's the difference. It's when you can't see it – that's when you're in trouble."

Luke looked back at him levelly. "Not everyone has your degree of trust. And there's so much I don't know. Yoda was right – in a way that he didn't really mean at the time. It's now a part of me that _is_ dominant in some respects, and that's because I've felt it."

"It doesn't dominate you at all," Han insisted.

"Not in the way you're thinking. But it's a part of my thoughts. Whether you accept it or not, I _did_ step over that line."

"I do accept it! Like I accept everything about you. It's _you_ who's gotta accept it in the right way. You're the strongest person I know. And you face anythin' that's thrown at you."

"Do I?" Luke asked. He stared at Han for a long moment. "Are you counting this afternoon?"

Han looked down, releasing Luke at the same time. He turned to the side, resting one hip against the wall. 

"Yeah. Even that."

"So why don't you ask me again why I didn't push you away?"

"You reckon I need to? Don't I have the answer already? It's just not your way is it? Like I said, you'll face anythin' without flinching."

"It was because I didn't want to."

Han fixed him with a curious stare. "Why not?"

"Because I care about you."

"Care about me? I care about Lando, but I wouldn't want him kissing me."

Luke gave a soft laugh. "We go round and round and round with this don't we? Questioning and counter-questioning each other's words till neither of us have got a clue what the other's talking about."

"At least I try to make sense. Gettin' a simple answer out of you is worse than getting a short answer out of Goldenrod."

"Because there isn't one. I'm as confused as you are! I've not got it all straight in my own mind, let alone be able to make it clear to you."

"But you care about me huh? Is that care about me in that you don't wanna hurt my feelings, care about me 'cause I'm a good friend, or care about me in some other way you've not told me about?"

"All those ways. Except I have told you, really."

"So explain it to me again, 'cause I must've missed it the first time."

"You don't make things easy do you?"

"And you do?"

"I guess not," Luke smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'll try to make it clearer." He shifted slightly on the wall. "Sometime between Yavin and Hoth, I just accepted that I'd read you wrong." He touched Han briefly on the arm, effectively forestalling Han's indignant response. "Let me explain properly before you yell at me. I know you didn't think any of the things I said before. You've already told me. And it was never a definite feeling anyway. But when we were on Hoth, I'd cast all that aside, and, well... yes, I would've wanted to be with you if things had been different. But Leia was in love with you, and you seemed to feel the same way."

"Then things changed again after Cloud City?" Han asked gruffly.

" _I_ changed. I made so many discoveries about myself, and nothing seemed the same anymore. Everything had got more dangerous. Vader was using you, Leia and Chewie to get to me. I hadn't really seen it before, but after that I understood exactly what it meant to be in the situation I was in. I knew I had to keep you all separate from that struggle with Vader and the Emperor. But it didn't work out because I couldn't do it. I _still_ can't do it. But at least when you were with Leia, there was never any possibility of acting on those feelings – because I couldn't. That's what I meant by it being easier then."

"What feelings?" Han pulled away from the wall, twisted round again to face Luke. He rested his hands on top of the wall, one on either side of Luke. 

"Han..."

" _What_ feelings?" Han demanded again. 

Luke lifted a hand, touched his fingers to Han's cheek. "They're probably something like yours."

"I don't think so."

"Then you should think again."

"What – you're tellin' me you love me?" Han asked, unable to keep the skepticism from his voice.

"Of course I love you."

"But not like that."

Luke traced the edge of Han's cheekbone with his fingertips. "Yes, like that," he said. 

Han stared at him, confounded, then took hold of the hand at his face, linking his fingers with Luke's. "And now you're gonna tell me it's wrong. That we can't do this to Leia. And that it's a bad idea 'cause you might wanna go off and be alone to satisfy some perverse instinct for self-denial."

"We can't just forget about Leia and ignore her feelings. You don't want to do that any more than I do. And you already know all the other things I've told you. I'm not gonna say them again, but they won't just go away."

"And _I've_ told _you_ , I don't want protecting from you," Han replied. "And that's the real issue ain't it? The other things... Leia... it's a matter of time. But I know you won't make any promises, so I'm gonna make one instead. I'm gonna prove to you that you're already doing the right things."

"What would you want me to promise?"

"Hell, I don't know. I only know what _I_ want."

"What _do_ you want?"

Han studied Luke's face, shadowy in the pale light from the moon. "Too much," he said. And when Luke didn't reply, he gave an abrupt shake of his head, not really knowing what he wanted to happen. Just for the conversation to be over maybe. Perhaps for them to give it up, go home, go back to sitting on the edge and wondering if things could ever have been different. Anything but this endless game of words.

Yet a sharp flare of aggression held him there when he should've backed off, especially after Luke had more-or-less told him to forget it. 

"Everything. I want everything." His eyes, flashing with anger at his own lack of restraint, held Luke's. "But you never want anything do you?"

Luke stared back at him. "Yes I do," he said quietly.

The words chased away the anger as quickly as it had flared up, leaving a different, tense, stillness in Han. It was a moment before he spoke. "So why don't you do something about it?" 

Luke reached out with his free hand, sliding it around the back of Han's neck. A small, quiet breath escaped him, and his hand exerted a slight but unmistakable pressure as he leaned down.

Han moved towards him, all his unformed resolutions to hold back fleeing instantaneously into the night air. Whatever he'd begun to tell himself about demanding nothing and accepting all Luke's caution was forgotten the moment Luke's lips met his, this time with full awareness that made itself heard in the sound Luke made. It wasn't much, something halfway between a sigh and a moan, coming from deep inside. But for Han, it echoed precisely the same feeling that had burned for so long within him and he reacted to it instinctively, his hands moving up to frame Luke's face, deepening the kiss, searching out unequivocal answers to all the questions he hadn't yet asked.

It wasn't uncertainty that made Han start to pull away, but the simple desire to see Luke's face. But the instant he moved back, Luke's grip tightened in protest, his response a rough entreaty that made Han's breath catch in his throat. 

"Don't go yet." 

Han locked eyes with him. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Then Luke moved, half sliding and half climbing down from the wall, his hands pulling Han up against him. They fell back awkwardly against the wall, and then Han's mouth was on Luke's again, his kisses turning intent and hungry. 

To Han it felt like everything inside him was altering – all the suppressed desire and self-imposed denial of the past years reforming itself into a furious form of need that tore through him. He acted impulsively, kissing Luke all over his face, across his eyes and in his hair. He moved his lips down to beneath Luke's jaw, grazed his teeth across Luke's neck, closed his eyes as Luke groaned aloud.

It was everything he wanted, and everything he couldn't have. He knew he had to stop but didn't know how to. And as Luke's hands tightened in his hair, Han understood that they were each relying on the other to end it. Because Leia still stood between them, along with all the hurt they could inflict on her. It was far too soon and the guilt too new, and he owed it to Luke to regain some control.

But something else was taking over. Something that made him push up harder against Luke, driving the breath from Luke's lungs and pinning him tightly against the wall. And when that same something sent his hands to reach for the fastenings of Luke's tunic, he found his fingers tangled up with Luke's.

Luke's palms, hot against his skin, raised shivers that crawled across his body and almost made him forget what he knew he must do. Then he chased the thought even further away by fastening his mouth to Luke's throat and sliding his hands inside Luke's tunic. 

Everything he felt was here, in the building heat within him and the way Luke moved against him. He pressed hard, hungry kisses to exposed skin, each touch of his lips pushing him one step closer to going too far. But as he moved his lips lower and felt all sensations turn acute, he finally tore himself away.

They stood there for a long moment, staring at each other, startled into silence by the raw strength of such abrupt, consuming desire. 

Then Luke reached out, pulling Han towards him, but gently this time – both of them full of an aching awareness that anything more would have felt like a betrayal. Even if Leia had openly stated her acceptance of the way they felt, all three of them needed more distance to see things clearly.

Han buried his face in Luke's neck, breathing in the combined scent of Luke's hair and Luke's skin. He drew a deep, ragged breath and his muffled words reflected the tumult in his mind and the single-minded response of his body. " _Gods, Luke_."

When Han raised his head he brushed his fingers across Luke's lips, saying nothing because they'd said it all already. Luke smiled back at him and Han couldn't look away.

They stayed there, huddled against the wall, for a moment that stretched into many minutes, hearing the calls of nocturnal creatures, and watching the still-strange constellations of the night sky growing brighter as the darkness deepened.

Eventually, Han moved, drawing the edges of Luke's tunic together and searching for the fasteners with careful concentration.

When he'd finished he glanced around him at the rough landscape, its features leached of all color and barely visible in the moonlight. Soft beams of light caught tufts of grass and scattered stones from field walls. The track they'd walked along had all but vanished, but the glow from Jira's settlement would help to guide them.

"Let's find our way back, huh?" he said.

Luke nodded, the movement only just noticeable in the deep shadow in which he stood, and his cryptic reply so quiet that Han strained to hear it.

"We can find our way home, but I don't know if we can find our way back."


	9. Chapter 9

Han noticed two things the instant he walked into the pilots' mess room. The first was Luke. Not unusual to find him in there so early – just like Han he tried to cram more things into the day than there were hours to do them in. And nor was it unusual for Han to feel the jolt of sudden warmth inside that seeing Luke always brought. He'd wondered before how long it was going to take before the mere sight of Luke stopped doing that to him, but now it felt like 'never' might be the only answer.

The other thing Han noticed was that he'd suddenly become very interesting to several occupants of the room. This second observation had no connection to the first, and nobody was going to draw any conclusions from him walking straight over to Luke's table. But it just showed how quickly word spread. Hardly surprising when everybody lived in each other's pockets. 

He grabbed one of the ready-assembled breakfast trays and slid, with apparent nonchalance, into a bench seat next to Luke. He gave Luke his best rendition of a casual smile, put on for the benefit of several onlookers, all of whom were doing their best to make it seem like they weren't staring. At least no-one could overhear their conversation, but he opted for caution in any case. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Luke cast him a brief, appraising glance. "How about you? I suppose you've noticed the gossip's started."

Han grimaced into his caf. "Can't say I'm surprised. Half the base must've heard Threepio moanin' about the move for a start."

"I guess. Mind you, he's probably secretly relieved not to be living with you any more. His programming just won't allow him to say it." 

"Hey, thanks. I try to be nice to him you know."

"Sure – that's a well-known fact," Luke said dryly.

A shadow loomed over the table. "Mind if I interrupt your cozy tête-à-tête?"

Han stared up at Lando with an ill-disguised lack of enthusiasm. "How come you're so goddamn cheerful this early in the morning?"

"And good morning to you, too." Lando appeared undeterred by Han's greeting. "You two have a good time last night?"

"Put a sock in it Lando," Han growled, unnerved by the evident curiosity behind the question.

"I see you're as polite and charming as ever, which is why I was talking to Luke," Lando retorted.

Luke grinned at him. "It was okay. A bit crowded, that's all."

"Right." Lando nodded. He seemed about to say something else, but after a quick glance at Han he clearly thought better of it and changed the subject.

"You get a chance to see Creggan about those levelers yesterday?"

"He's gonna deliver three of them tomorrow," Luke said. "We've got them for a week – but after that, he'll start charging."

Lando rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. "Excellent. A week will be plenty long enough. I knew I could rely on you to get round him. Must've been your youthful charm and good looks."

Han snorted into his caf, but Lando looked unabashed. "I'll get a squad organized to get on with it. I don't suppose either of you...?"

"Not a chance," Han said. "Me n' Chewie are doin' the Roqqini hangar bays."

"And I've got to see Ackbar this morning, and Mon Mothma later on," Luke put in.

"What does the boss want you for anyway?" Han asked. He had some vague recollection of Luke mentioning talking to Mon Mothma yesterday evening, but he'd been too wound up to concentrate at the time.

Luke shrugged. "No idea. Whatever it is, she's pretty determined to see me today. She called me again first thing. Said she has to meet someone else this morning so can I make it a bit later instead. So I'd better get going or I'll run out of time to get everything done."

He maneuvered out of the cramped bench, collecting the remains of his breakfast tray at the same time.

"Call me later," Han said quickly. "To let me know what Mon Mothma had to say," he added.

Luke smiled. "Sure. See you both later."

After he'd gone, Han pointed a finger at Lando.

"Whatever you're thinkin', don't bother to say it."

"Hey, I'm on your side," Lando pointed out, looking hurt. "I can't help the fact I've got eyes in my head."

"And you're seein'... what?"

"Don't look so worried. No-one else is gonna think anything. I've known you for years remember – you get to read someone after all that time."

Han hesitated for a moment. Gave a resigned nod. "It's important they don't realize. I mean, it's too soon. For Leia's sake."

"I understand," Lando said. "But things are gonna work out in the end?"

Han frowned. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's difficult enough to begin with, when you think they're brother and sister. But Luke's got his own issues about things."

Lando gave a sympathetic nod. "In my opinion – for what it's worth – I reckon things'll be okay. I saw how Luke was after that disaster on Cloud City." 

Lando looked down into his caf for a moment, hiding from Han the discomfort all mention of those events brought. When he looked back up, Han grinned at him, even though he knew Lando would never rid himself completely of his sense of guilt. 

Lando gave him a weak smile back. "I saw it in his eyes. He was gonna do whatever it took to get you back. It's obvious how much he cares about you."

Han nodded slowly. "That might just be the biggest problem."

***

Mon Mothma watched the approach of the Chandrilan cruiser with something like nervousness. It was a considerable number of years since she'd last seen Giddean Danu, and he, like all of them, had no doubt changed. The stern and rather forbidding figure cut by the former councilor back in the early days of the Imperial Senate was the only picture she could bring to mind, because she had no other. Danu had been an early victim of the Emperor's investment in the military support needed for his new regime. 

As senator for Kuat, he'd been a vociferous opponent of the Empire's reliance on military enforcement – a stance that had earned him a recall from the Senate. But Giddean hadn't been able to hold his tongue, and his arrest had followed just a year after his dismissal. Kuat's influential elite had backed the charge of intent to cause unrest. Shipbuilding was big business on Kuat, and the Emperor was the Kuati's best customer yet. No liberal-thinking politician had a chance of standing in the way of such huge potential for profit.

But the Kuati's had never really known what to do with Danu. The shipbuilding industry's dislike of him hadn't extended to other sectors. Areas not dominated by the yards had been outspoken in their resistance to the closing down of trade routes by the Emperor, who'd been intent on keeping Kuat to himself. The Kuati industrialists, with no desire to have Danu stir up unrest from within prison, decided against making a martyr of him and shipped him into exile on Belinar instead. There, on the remote and inhospitable planet far in the Outer Rim, Danu had lived in confinement for many years. 

Up until last week, Mon Mothma's only contact with Danu had been in the form of a message, passed along a carefully selected route of rebel sympathizers. In it, Danu had urged Mon Mothma not to try to intervene on his behalf. He'd felt the emerging rebellion was more important than any of his own problems, and hadn't wanted Mon Mothma to risk drawing attention to herself by seeking justice for him. 

And now Danu had tracked her down. And he was arriving, coincidentally, at exactly the moment Mon Mothma needed him. His knowledge of past events was likely to be greater than hers, and it had been Danu who'd first mentioned an obscure little world on the outer rim. A world that wanted to establish a relationship with the rest of the galaxy. And with its only known Jedi.

The cruiser took its time setting down, its Captain taking no chances as she negotiated the tricky task of finding a space amidst the cramped disorder of the landing pads.

When the ship's ramp finally lowered, the figure that appeared at its head showed a changed man. Danu was still tall and slim, but the years had stripped him of the formality he once wore like a second skin. He came slowly down the ramp, displaying a touch of apprehension which mirrored that felt by Mon Mothma. She was surprised to see it, because Danu had always seemed so unshakably self-possessed. But then, how many of them could claim to have stayed unaltered by the course of the years?

Mon Mothma smiled, and received a pleased smile in return. Danu altered his pace, hastening towards her with outstretched hands. Mon Mothma took them with a sudden spark of gladness. Danu had been there from the beginning. By rights he should have been able to join them earlier, to have played a part, as he would have wanted to, in the implementation of freedom throughout the galaxy. But it wasn't too late – they still had so much to do. He was another one returned to them, and he had a part to play.

"Mon Mothma," Danu said, his expression one of slight disbelief.

"Yes! Crazy, isn't it? After all this time..."

"You look well."

"Thank you for your tact, but I doubt it. Too little sleep, and too many politicians to deal with."

"Nothing's changed then."

Mon Mothma shook her head with amusement. "I hardly know what to say – it's been too long. We've a lot to talk about."

"I hope so. When I heard about what you'd done, I was astounded, but then I always knew you'd succeed. You and Bail were always going to change the world."

"Giddean – you _did_ hear about Bail? About Alderaan?" Mon Mothma had no idea what news had managed to filter through to Belinar, or even if Danu had been allowed any contact with the outside world.

Danu nodded grimly but didn't reply. Mon Mothma was silent for a few moments too. She'd known how close Giddean had grown to Bail in those early days of the Empire. They'd shared a common form of grief in that they'd both mourned the loss of the Jedi. Giddean had lost many personal friendships during the Jedi purge, and Bail had empathized with his anger and sadness whilst urging him to keep his feelings to himself. Expressing allegiance to the Jedi had been a treasonable offence.

They walked slowly back towards the base, Mon Mothma's protocol droid overseeing the transport of Danu's bags – the little that he'd brought. They talked as they went along, sticking to trivialities. There'd be time enough later to broach the past.

"These ships belong to Rogue Squadron," Mon Mothma explained, their route taking them through the wide hangar bays. "Members of that team played a major role in destroying the Death Stars."

Danu shook his head in amazement. "I never saw anything of those battle-stations, but I heard a great deal about them. It seems crazy that those tiny ships could have brought them down."

"Without such incredible pilots, we'd have got nowhere."

Danu glanced around him at the chaotic landing bays, a wry smile on his lips. "You have many types of ships I don't recognize. And I used to be more well-informed on ship manufacture than almost anyone in the galaxy. But technologically, things haven't advanced as much as I expected."

Mon Mothma laughed. "You're looking at rebel ships. They're all begged, borrowed and stolen. And we'll fly them until they fall apart. The Empire had a monopoly on all the latest technology and the newest models."

"But you had all the ingenuity," Danu declared. "I shall look forward to hearing all the facts from their source. After news has traveled all the way round the galaxy, the truth can be a little hard to get at."

"Indeed–" 

A loud guffaw caught Mon Mothma's attention and cut off her reply. She turned to find its origin. A little to their left, Wedge Antilles was laughing raucously, together with Wes Janson and Luke. In flight gear, and trailed by astrodroids, they were heading towards their ships. Mon Mothma placed a hand on Giddean's arm. 

"The very same squad," she said, pleased. "Come and meet some of our heroes."

The three pilots smiled politely as Mon Mothma introduced them. At the mention of Luke's name, Danu's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Skywalker? You're the Jedi then?"

"I... yes," Luke said.

"You killed the Emperor?"

Luke looked startled, shook his head in denial. "No. Darth Vader killed the Emperor."

Danu frowned. "I heard differently."

"I was there, with Vader," Luke admitted.

Danu studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod in Mon Mothma's direction. "It's that distorted truth again." He turned his attention back to Luke. "Forgive me, I've been in exile for a number of years, and news reached me in convoluted and unreliable ways. But I'd very much like to talk to you sometime if you'd be willing and can spare the time. I've always believed the Jedi were essential to the galaxy's well-being, and when I heard of your existence it gave me a great deal of joy."

"Well, yes, of course, I'd be happy to talk to you..."

"I don't mean to put you on the spot," Danu said, sounding apologetic. "That wasn't my intention. But I meant what I said about the Jedi. They were dark times, the days of the purge."

"Did you have much to do with the Jedi during the Old Republic?"

"I was a strong believer in the links between the Jedi and the politicians. My view wasn't a popular one – at least, not in the last days of the Council. But I lost some good friends when the Emperor decided to eliminate the Order. In those few short days, the galaxy became an emptier, colder place." 

"I'd be interested to hear about those times. Are you staying here long?"

Danu looked again at Mon Mothma. "For the moment, I've nowhere else to go. I've come to join you – certainly until I can step foot on my homeworld again."

"Where is that?" Wedge asked.

"Kuat."

Wedge grimaced and shot a troubled look at Wes. "Not the easiest place to get to right now."

Danu gave a dry laugh. "No. But don't worry, I haven't come here to coerce the Rebel Alliance into taking back Kuat for me. I've simply come to make myself useful. I believe Mon Mothma already has a possible assignment lined up for me."

Mon Mothma smiled. "There's something I was hoping you might do after you've had a chance to settle in with us. But first, there's another matter I want to discuss with you." She turned to Luke. "If you do get time today, I'd still like to see you."

Luke nodded. "We're just about to run a test flight. As soon as we get back, I'll come and find you if that's okay."

"I'll look forward to it."

Luke, Wedge and Wes turned towards their ships, Luke first casting a glance out across the duracrete to the empty spot where Han always landed the Falcon.

Mon Mothma noticed with a small twinge of understanding. Her heart went out to Leia, but at the same time she felt for Luke and Han too. And if she'd wondered last night whether Han's feelings for Luke might be a little one-sided, she now knew otherwise. Their feelings, quite obviously, were entirely mutual. 


	10. Chapter 10

When Luke finally found himself outside Mon Mothma's door, he felt as though he was on the edge of a change. Where the feeling came from, he wasn't sure, because it didn't seem to tie in with any of the _other_ changes that had hit him so dramatically in the last few hours. Puzzled, he pressed the intercom and waited for the door to slide open.

Mon Mothma smiled and got up from her desk. Around her lay a realm of chaos even greater than that of Leia's office. She shifted a pile of stuff from a chair, and gestured for Luke to sit down.

"I'll try to make this fairly quick," she explained. "I know you're busy. But first – let me get you some caf."

Luke, having trailed from one meeting to the next for half the day, each one accompanied by mugs of caf, began to wonder if his whole time was going to be spent drinking the stuff. Much more of it, and he'd be climbing the walls. He thought about declining, but Mon Mothma was already asking for it over her communicator, and Luke guessed she wanted an excuse to have one herself. He wondered just what it was she was going to say.

"Do you remember you came to see me some weeks ago, to tell me about Vader?" Mon Mothma hesitated. "Your father."

"Yeah, sure." He'd hardly be likely to forget.

"I know the intention was to let me know just what the situation was with you and Leia. But I also wondered if you'd been hoping I might know something more – about your father's past?"

"I was clutching at straws really. I know next to nothing, and I knew you spent some of your time on Coruscant. I just thought there might've been a chance..."

A protocol droid arrived with the caf, and spent a few minutes fussing around pouring it, and trying to clear a space to put the tray and the individual mugs.

"I'll just hold mine thanks," Luke said, wishing the droid would give up what was a futile task.

"Yes, just put the tray on the floor please," Mon Mothma suggested. "We can manage easily enough."

The droid complied with a sigh suggestive of a less-than-patient tolerance for human foibles, and disappeared.

Mon Mothma rolled her eyes slightly, and took a grateful sip of the hot caf. She picked up the conversation where they'd left off.

"Didn't your teachers tell you any Jedi history?"

"No. In fact they positively avoided telling me anything. I only know what Ben told me – that Vader helped to hunt down and kill all the Jedi."

"Well, it's easy to see why Master Kenobi wanted to stay away from certain aspects of the past," Mon Mothma said. "But I can equally see why it matters to you to know what you can."

"Did you know Obi-Wan?"

"Not really. But Bail knew him well." 

"Bail Organa?"

Mon Mothma nodded, and cleared another chair to sit down near Luke. He could sense a sort of nervousness coming from her, which was extremely unusual to say the least. Mon Mothma was one of the most composed people he knew, although presumably much of that was for public show – a necessary act of survival for many of them. 

Without further preamble, Mon Mothma began to speak. "When I was a young senator in the Old Republic, Palpatine was a very popular man."

Luke said nothing – it would be impossible to reconcile his own memories of the man with anything Mon Mothma had to say of his earlier life.

"He'd worked his way up to a position of strength by cultivating that popularity. He'd been a senator, the same as thousands of others, but a series of events ensued that meant he could appear to take charge of increasing problems in the galaxy. He became a symbol for many. The ultimate peace-giver."

" _Appear_ to take charge?"

"Yes." Mon Mothma brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face. "Luke – I know you have first-hand experience of the Emperor's true nature, but I think it's important to tell you how things were in the past. Palpatine was an extremely manipulative man. Everything he did was part of a carefully designed plot."

Luke gave a low laugh. "He didn't change much over the years then."

"I doubt it. He was also a very clever man, and none of us, at the time, had any idea just how much of his rise to power had been calculated. Years beforehand really. I was taken in by him as much as anybody at first. When I found out the true picture from Bail, it was already too late to take real action. The damage had been done."

"What happened?" Luke asked.

"It's complicated, but basically, the events that he seemed to take charge of would never have existed in the first place had he not orchestrated them."

For a brief moment Luke was back in that throne room, listening to the Emperor proclaiming that everything had taken place according to his design. He shivered involuntarily, wondering just how much hardship the Emperor had deliberately instigated in order to appear in control.

Mon Mothma downed the remains of her caf and reached for the jug, refilling both of their mugs. Luke thought she must use the high stimulant intake just to keep going. He couldn't blame her – politicians weren't the easiest people to deal with.

"I was only sixteen when he became Chancellor, but I was already active in politics. I took a lot of interest in what went on in the Senate because I wanted to join them and represent my own world. Palpatine represented Naboo. It was a small, peaceful world, not at all interested in a galactic power struggle, but Palpatine made sure it was thrust right into the middle of everything."

"What did he do?" Luke asked.

"There was an invasion there. It's a long and complex story, and I won't go into all the details right now. But anyway, Palpatine stood up as a savior for its people. He managed to get himself elected as Supreme Chancellor on that particular ticket. I mean, how convenient was it that Palpatine's homeworld was suddenly facing a crisis – and to deal with it effectively required a shift in government?"

"You mean he fixed the invasion?"

"He played both sides. It was all about his personal rise to power. Plus it enabled him to gain the trust of the Jedi – at least in the early days. Obi-Wan Kenobi was one of those sent by the Jedi Council to negotiate an end to the crisis, but he and his companion ended up right in the middle of the invasion. They had to flee the planet with Naboo's Queen. They took her to Coruscant, so she could appeal to the Senate. It was the start of a good friendship between the Queen of Naboo and Master Kenobi."

"So how did the Republic turn into the Empire?" Luke asked.

"It all hinged on the outcome of the Clone Wars. That, and a number of supposed threats to the Senate and everything it stood for. It enabled Palpatine to claim more and more power. The full truth didn't come out until it was all in place."

"But you _did_ find out the truth."

Mon Mothma nodded. "Yes. Much of it from Bail. He'd originally been one of Palpatine's supporters, but he was also a good friend of the Jedi. Particularly to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Master Yoda."

"He knew Yoda?" Luke exclaimed.

Mon Mothma smiled. "You sound amazed."

"It's just – Yoda was so _alone_. I can't picture him anywhere else other than Dagobah, which is where I found him. There's nothing there. Just swamps, and mud... But I knew he'd taught Obi-Wan. Knew he'd been a great Jedi master, so I've no justification for being surprised."

"There was a fair amount of interaction between the Jedi Council and the Senate. Not that the Jedi took a political stance – but they were there to uphold the stability of the democracy we supposedly stood for."

"Was the Council based on Coruscant then?"

"Yes – at the Jedi Temple. The Council was a group of leading Jedi, one of which was Master Yoda. Master Kenobi was a member too by the end."

"The end? You mean the purge?"

Mon Mothma nodded grimly. "That was also part of Palpatine's scheme."

"I... Ben – Obi-Wan – told me that Vader was responsible for the deaths of all the remaining Jedi."

Mon Mothma shook her head slightly. "I don't know. He certainly didn't do it alone. The clone army killed many. Bail saw thousands of troops attacking the Jedi Temple. It burned for hours. I don't think anyone was left alive in there." She looked down at her hands for a moment, before glancing across at Luke. 

Luke stared at her, frowning. "I thought the clones were on the side of the Republic – but the Jedi were too, weren't they? That means the purge wasn't just the Emperor's private vendetta."

"Yes, you're right. Palpatine claimed publicly that the Jedi had plotted to assassinate him. He said they were planning to take over the Senate – to put an end to democracy. He called them 'enemies of the Republic', announcing it at a special session of the Senate. Collaboration with the Jedi from then on was seen as treason."

"So he put himself in the role of preserver of democracy. All that explains the mixed reactions I get," Luke said quietly. "There's a lot of hatred out there for the Jedi. It's no wonder, if people believed they were only after power."

"Not everyone believed it. Increasingly, people began to realize the truth. Of course, it was all rather beside the point then."

Luke nodded. "I can see why the Emperor had to get rid of them. But why didn't the Council realize what was going on earlier?"

"Again, it was down to Palpatine's cleverness. What people wanted more than anything was somebody taking charge. Someone who'd put an end to all the fighting. The Senate voted to give Palpatine emergency powers, and he slowly began to take more and more freedom away from the Republic in the name of security. I suspect the Jedi _were_ increasingly concerned over the powers he was assuming, but to have acted against him they'd have needed proof of corruption. It was the same for us. Several of us in the Senate felt equally as worried, but to speak out was unsafe. We didn't know at the time who to trust, and we weren't sure about the Jedi either."

Mon Mothma frowned and took a swallow of her caf. "There were at least two of our group who wanted to ally with the Jedi from the beginning. But the rest of us urged caution. It seemed too risky. Even during Palpatine's announcement about the treason of the Jedi, we didn't really understand. Or _I_ didn't", she corrected herself. "Bail knew, because he'd ended up right in the middle of it all. Afterwards he told me everything he'd discovered from Obi-Wan and Yoda. That Palpatine had engineered the whole situation. Created all the unrest in the galaxy, simply so he could come in and take control. It worked perfectly. And he was powerful too."

Luke nodded. Both Yoda and Ben had warned him about the Emperor's powers, and then of course he'd seen them for himself. Inwardly he sighed, because although everything Mon Mothma was saying was fascinating, at the heart of the whole story Luke was failing to find his father. And it was information about him that Luke had really hoped to hear.

"What about Vader? Did Bail Organa talk about him at all?"

Mon Mothma shook her head. "Not in the way you mean. As an enemy of the Alliance, we spoke of him a lot. But I think it's now clear to me that Bail knew of Darth Vader's true identity. There's something I remember. It was shortly after the declaration of the Empire. Palpatine called many meetings then – it was necessary for him to keep the senators sweet in those early days. He hadn't yet begun to govern by force, and he wanted co-operation, not unrest. Bail and I didn't usually sit together during meetings because we didn't want to draw attention to our friendship, or to anything that might've seemed like a plot. But on this one occasion he came into the Chandrilan pod. Palpatine was in the central pod, and next to him was this – _thing_." 

She looked at Luke apologetically. "I'm sorry, Luke. But right from the start, there was something shocking about Vader. Even though it was the first time we'd seen him, and we knew nothing about him – he seemed to come from nowhere. But Palpatine introduced him to the Senate that day, and I remember how Bail just froze. It was like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And then, suddenly, without a word to me, he just got up and left. He told me later that Master Yoda had explained about Vader's Jedi past, and I put Bail's reaction down to the same feelings of revulsion I'd felt. Of course, it's obvious to me now that he had good reason for not disclosing his knowledge of who Vader _really_ was."

"Leia," Luke said. He felt shaky inside, thinking how Palpatine had fully expected to be able to introduce a new apprentice to the galaxy, all those years after presenting Vader to them. He tried to imagine himself in that role, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Emperor, and assuming public responsibility for untold horrors. 

But Mon Mothma was replying to Luke's statement, and mentally he shook himself, trying to displace the unease that was gnawing away at his insides. 

"He'd have done what he could to protect her. Not just to keep her identity a secret from Vader, but also to save _her_ from the truth. I don't know if that was the right thing to do. I know she's finding it difficult now."

"I wonder if Bail had just been waiting for the right moment..." Luke said.

"Do you think so?"

"He couldn't have known he'd never get the chance to tell Leia the truth. But he _did_ tell her about Obi-Wan. Leia knew he existed, and she knew he'd fought with Bail Organa in the Clone Wars. It's so strange. It was Leia's message to Obi-Wan that got me involved in everything in the first place. And Bail had planted the seeds of that by telling her about him."

"I didn't even know Master Kenobi was still alive until you turned up," Mon Mothma admitted. "It was a huge surprise to me. I know Bail had helped Obi-Wan and Yoda to escape, and he told me they'd had to disappear for their own safety. With no mention of them for so many years, I suppose I just assumed they'd died."

"They needed to stay hidden. Obi-Wan couldn't risk Vader discovering where he was. But Bail would've told Leia about him for a reason. He must've known that someday, somehow, connections might be made, and things would start to happen. And because Bail had known Ben was on Tatooine, he'd have known why. He'd have known I was there too. And he'd have known Leia was my sister." 

Mon Mothma nodded. "Yes, he must've known that. I've started to believe he knew a great deal about the circumstances of your birth."

Luke stared at her for a long moment before he spoke. "Do you mean, about our mother?"

Mon Mothma got up from her chair and walked across to the desk. She fiddled about with datacards, trying to set them straight. It was a clear delaying tactic, but Luke waited in silence. After all, he'd already waited for over two decades.

Finally, Mon Mothma spoke. "There are things I've thought about since you first came to see me. Purely in my own mind you understand. Bail told me nothing. Knowledge was dangerous back then, and as we've already said, there were people to protect. I could be completely wrong."

"I'd like to hear what you think."

Mon Mothma studied Luke. "Will you tell me something? It's not a subject of conversation you'll like, I'm sure. But it's important."

"I can try."

"When you came to see me before, Han said Vader told you at Bespin that he was your father."

"That's right."

"He knew you existed, before then?"

"Oh, he knew alright. He lured me there to tell me that. It was part of his plan."

"So he'd always known? Had he been searching for you since you were a baby?"

Luke frowned. "I don't think so, but I'm not sure. Ben told me we were hidden from Vader when we were born. Maybe he found out later. Perhaps it had something to do with my training, making Vader either sense my existence, or realizing he had to do something about me. But Vader _definitely_ hadn't known about Leia. It was me that revealed her to him – only I didn't mean to." 

Luke shrugged, and looked back at Mon Mothma. "Vader can't have been there at the birth, otherwise he'd have known there were two of us."

"If there _is_ anything in what I'm thinking, it would make sense that Vader would _not_ have known you existed. Not until you came to the Empire's attention maybe."

"Why?"

Mon Mothma sighed. "Bear with me. I'm going to explain something else from the past."

Luke nodded in silence.

"When it became obvious that Palpatine wasn't handing back his emergency powers, a group of us met up in Bail's chambers to discuss this. They were dangerous times to be talking that way. Going against the Chancellor would have amounted to siding with the separatists, and that could've got you a charge of treason. We had to be careful even how we spoke amongst ourselves, because we weren't sure if we could trust each other. We didn't put a name to what we were doing, but we knew we had to take some sort of action to counteract Palpatine's powers. We swore ourselves to secrecy."

"That's how you started the Rebel Alliance?" Luke asked.

"Yes – although we didn't know back then just where it was going to take us. We were simply a small group of worried politicians, thinking only of diplomatic means to get our voices heard." She smiled ruefully. "Incredible how naïve we were really. And now there are so few of us remaining from that time. How I wish all the others were still around to witness what we've achieved."

"Who were the others?" Luke asked.

"Bail of course. Fang Zar from Sern Prime and Terr Taneel from Neelanon. All three of them dead now. Padmé Amidala from Naboo–"

"Naboo? Palpatine's homeworld?" Luke interrupted.

"She was the former queen. The one who'd escaped the invasion army with Obi-Wan Kenobi. She'd been more shocked than any of us by the actions of Palpatine, given that she'd had a more specific friendship with him."

"When you mentioned her before, you said she'd become friendly with Obi-Wan too," Luke said.

Mon Mothma nodded. "She had close links with the Jedi. During one of our meetings she told us that. She wanted to enlist a particular Jedi's help. We said no. At the time we didn't know who we could trust. We wanted to leave the Jedi out of it."

"She was talking about Obi-Wan?"

Mon Mothma hesitated. "It's possible. But all my instincts told me she wasn't. There was something about the way she said it. Almost... secretive. I got the sense that something was very wrong, but I didn't want to put it to her there and then. Not in front of the other senators."

"What d'you mean?"

"You know Luke, there are some things I've always been very good at doing. One of those is reading between the lines, and the other is sensing subterfuge in others. It's been very useful to me over the years, as I'm sure you can imagine. I'm not saying that the senator was doing anything underhand, but there was something she was trying to hide from everybody. And if someone's trying to hide such a thing, it leads directly to the assumption that there has to be a good reason for the deception."

"I'm not sure I understand. You think she was working against you all? That she was spying for Palpatine?"

"No – nothing like that!" Mon Mothma said quickly. "I think she was totally loyal to us, and to our cause. This was something much more personal." Mon Mothma glanced briefly down into her caf mug, then back up at Luke. "She was pregnant, but she was doing her very best to hide that fact."

Once again, Luke found himself staring at Mon Mothma. It took him a few seconds to find his voice. "What happened to her?"

Mon Mothma held Luke's gaze levelly, but her eyes were troubled. "She died. It would've been around the time the baby was due. And around the time that you and Leia must've been born. The time of the purge."

"The time of my father's fall," Luke whispered. "The baby... Do you know–?"

"Died with her – I believed at the time."

"And now?"

Mon Mothma shook her head. "Now... I don't know what to think."

"How did she die?"

"I don't know. I never understood it at the time. There were secrets there. In those last days she'd been deeply troubled. I knew it was something more than politics, but I didn't think it was my place to ask her. People are entitled to privacy in their lives. Bail said there'd been some medical complication, and the droids had tried to save her. It never rang completely true, but Bail was very distressed about it, and I didn't question him. He had to take her body back to her family. I know that wasn't easy for him – they'd been living in fear for her life for years."

Mon Mothma pushed the caf jug over to Luke, and he refilled his mug automatically, not noticing what he was doing.

"And then Bail suddenly had a new, adopted baby daughter," Mon Mothma continued. "I never drew any conclusions. Orphaned babies were everywhere..."

"But now you're drawing conclusions?"

"You understand this is all supposition. I have no proof. As a probability, it's not even likely. The galaxy is immense. All the Jedi traveled widely, met countless numbers of different humans. And people's reasons for secrecy are as varied and never-ending as everything else."

"But you've got your instincts," Luke stated.

"That's all I've got. But... there is someone else you can talk to. Someone who may know more than I do."

"Who? Everyone likely to really know seems to be dead."

"This person isn't. I introduced you to him this morning."

"Senator Danu?" Luke asked, surprised.

"He was one of our group – there from the beginning. He had links with the Jedi, and he'd grown closer to Senator Amidala because they shared that same belief in the Jedi."

"Yes... but for him to understand what I'm asking, it'd mean telling him the truth. About Vader."

Mon Mothma inclined her head. "That has to be your decision. But for what it's worth, I'm certain he'll be on your side. And I'd trust him with my life."

"He said he'd been in exile for years. You haven't seen him in all that time?"

"That's true," Mon Mothma conceded, "but I'm going on those instincts again."

Luke smiled at her. "Okay. But it's not just my decision. I need to speak to Leia."


	11. Chapter 11

"I guess we're finished here," Han said, as Chewbacca began to pack up the recording equipment. They'd taken measurements of the hangars, detailed holocam footage, and made a list of the more obvious and urgent repairs needed to the old bays. They'd also done a thorough reconnaissance of the outlying land and all possible access routes in. 

The bays were part of the old Roqqini base, but the Imperials had used them as storage depots for out-of-action ships and machinery. It'd been a dumping ground. Either money for repairs hadn't been easy to come by, or the Empire had simply replaced worn-out craft with new ones, because they'd left the ships to fall apart as they stood. It meant the Alliance had a hefty clearance job to do before they could start on any structural renovation. 

"This place is so overgrown, you could hide anything in here and the Imps wouldn't think to look," Han noted.

He was referring to the dense, overhanging trees that all but obscured the depots from the air. The coverage would make access trickier, but it was worth it to keep the security.

Chewbacca grunted a reply that stopped Han in mid stride. Slowly, he turned back to stare at the Wookiee.

"What are you talkin' about? I'm not hiding _anything_ away!"

A few further growls did little to reduce Han's confusion. "Are you tryin' to make some kinda point? If so, you could try makin' sense instead," he retorted.

Chewbacca shrugged, remarking casually that it was always better to be open about everything, even if it seemed difficult at the time.

"Oh, really. Well try this for openness – if I'd wanted your advice, I'd have asked for it."

Chewbacca, clearly unperturbed by Han's irritation, pointed out that it would've made no difference whether Han had asked for advice or not, because either way he wouldn't have listened.

Han glared at him. "And I suppose you know everything there is to know about everything. So how about lettin' me in on the secret of your all-seeing wisdom, 'cause damned if _I_ know what I'm doing."

Chewbacca continued to collect their scattered tools, calmly checked the recordings they'd made, and ended with a final sweep across the area with the holocam. All the while he interspersed his activities with suspiciously cryptic remarks that made Han's temper rise a little further. More so, because the Wookiee was, as usual, homing in on Han's most carefully guarded thoughts. Clearly, he hadn't done a very good job of guarding them – he never did where Chewie was concerned. 

"There's such a thing as tact, and not hurting other people's feelings y'know," he snapped. "In any case, I'm not afraid. That's not the reason."

Han stormed across to the corroding body of an old TIE interceptor and leaned his hands against it, the guttural noises of Chewie's response echoing in his ears – that he was afraid to make it real in case it pushed Luke away. And that he wouldn't admit to that because he was telling himself he was protecting Leia...

"You've just proved you're even crazier than I thought," he muttered, making the token rejoinder. He took a deep breath, then turned back to face Chewbacca.

"Okay, I'll admit it if it'll make you happy. And I know secrecy's more likely to drive him away in the end 'cause he'll end up thinkin' he's going behind Leia's back. But it's not just Leia is it? It's all the goddamn Jedi stuff! It's doing his head in. He thinks he's gotta live up to what Yoda expected of him, whatever the hell that was."

Chewbacca gave something resembling a dry, throaty laugh and chortled a reply that made Han roll his eyes with derision. 

"So now you know all about the Jedi too."

Chewbacca slung the heavy equipment case over one shoulder and sauntered out of the hangar, throwing a final observation at Han before disappearing from sight.

Han stood there frowning, considering his friend's last words – that the Jedi, with all their old rules and codes of conduct, had failed. But Luke, with a different outlook altogether, had succeeded. 

***

Leia had converted all her distress and confusion into pure energy, and her lightsaber struck Luke's with a power he'd not encountered from her before. Far from throwing her concentration, the troubles with Han had given her something to lash out at, and Luke could sense the simmering anger growing inside her. 

It was beginning to take control of her actions, throwing them into a harsher, brighter perspective that was uncomfortably familiar to Luke. Alongside the anger, Luke could discern within her a feeling of heady excitement that increased with each lunge of her weapon. Luke matched her stroke for stroke, but Leia clearly wanted more, forcing their practice to go beyond dangerous into something more ominous. Something threatening. 

Yet despite her elation over her increased power, Leia hadn't entirely lost her connection to Luke. He could still feel it, and allowed her tentative probe into his mind. She was curious, as if she'd sensed Luke holding back. For an instant, puzzlement broke through the determination to push herself as far as possible, and Luke felt her reach out further for an explanation. Her sudden realization touched Luke, like a shot of ice into his blood.

Instantly, she stepped back, shutting off her saber. For a few seconds they stood, catching their breath, hair dripping with sweat and faces flushed.

"Leia–"

"Oh gods – now I understand it," Leia whispered. Under the glow of heat, her skin had turned pale with shock.

Luke moved up to her, touched a hand to her arm. "And you stopped as soon as you did."

"Why didn't _you_ stop me? Why didn't you warn me?"

"Because you needed to see it for yourself. That understanding has to come from inside. It has to be your choice."

"This... this is what happened to you? When you fought Vader?"

Luke nodded. "It was like some huge surge of power. All that anger and hatred. I wanted to kill him. For a few seconds when I stood over him, it felt like some great victory."

Leia reached up and brushed her fingers across his cheek. "And the real victory was not killing him."

"Yes."

Leia stared at him for a few moments. She looked shaken and lost. "It's all so hard," she said at last.

"I know. But it's part of coming to terms with everything."

"How though?" Leia challenged, a rising note of panic in her voice. 

Studying her face, Luke could envisage the turmoil inside, and the fear that things might so easily spin out of control. She'd had but a glimmer of insight into the distortions the Force could allow, but it had clearly horrified her.

"By accepting ourselves. And trusting ourselves."

"Have you done that though?" she asked.

"I don't know," Luke admitted.

"This... this came from something trivial. Compared to what Vader and the Emperor did to you–"

"It's not trivial. But it doesn't matter where the anger comes from. It matters how you deal with it. And you _did_ deal with it."

"I'm not so sure." She shivered suddenly. "Can we light the fire and get some wine? I can't face going back down to the base yet."

Luke collected armfuls of twigs and fallen branches, and threw them onto the burnt circle that marked the remains of former fires. He touched his ignited lightsaber to the pile and waited for the flames to take hold. For a moment he was back in the forests of the Sanctuary Moon, where he'd watched his father's armor burn, and where he'd begun to realize that his own, personal battles were far from over.

They sat without talking for a while, sipping the wine and lost in thought. Luke experienced, yet again, the mixed feelings brought on by the post-battle party on Endor. Far from fading into the past, events there seemed to be gaining in significance, proving yet again how much of an emotional turning point it'd been.

"I've been talking to Mon Mothma," he said, breaking the silence eventually.

Leia turned to look at him. "About the past," she stated.

"She's thought a lot about things that went on since we told her about Vader." 

"I spoke to her too, yesterday evening. I told her about Han."

"Oh?" Luke said, surprised. "You know that... well, word's got around?"

Leia gave a dry laugh. "I expect most of the base knows by now. It doesn't bother me. They were bound to find out sooner or later. Right now, I feel like I've got something much worse to worry about."

"I promise you, things will be okay. We just have to stay focused on who we are. There has to be something inside to crave that kind of power. It's not something either of us wants."

"But what does that really mean for us? That we shut down any emotions that are too strong? Not let anyone touch us so it can't hurt? Is that the answer?"

"I don't think so, but I don't have a better answer either. Other than we just keep doing what we're doing."

Leia nodded slowly. "But for you, that means constant vigilance over your feelings doesn't it?" She moved closer to Luke. "But don't you think the _fear_ of showing those feelings might be worse than the power the feelings might have over you?"

Luke smiled at her. "Now you're starting to sound like me. But I think you're right. It's just that I can't forget the way the Emperor and Vader used my feelings against me. Vader got right inside my head to find out about you. It made me want to back off from everyone."

Luke watched the flames reach out to catch an outlying twig. It smoldered for a second or two, before the fire engulfed it fully. "I don't think I do that so much now," he continued, "but I still feel torn in two by it all. Some days I tell myself it was just another one of their games. To make me afraid to show any emotion at all. And if I follow that through, the Emperor will have won in a way, even though he's dead. Then other days I hear Yoda's words, and try to see how anything I do can match up to what he said I needed to become." 

And last night? Where did that fall between the two extremes? It should've been impossible to sit right next to Leia, with the memory of Han's touch still vivid, and his back covered in bruises from the jagged stones of the wall, without feeling the remorse he ought to feel. He'd been guilty of too many things last night. Like allowing instinct to take over from reason, and being a partner in what amounted to a disregard for Leia. And he'd willfully abandoned, if only for a few moments, any pretence at self-control he might've thought he had. And none of that even began to broach the issue of what was right and wrong for a Jedi. Yet despite all those concerns, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it _feel_ wrong inside. 

Leia's words broke into his thoughts. "You can't force yourself to be someone you're not," she said. "Besides, I've got issues with the way Ben and Yoda treated you. They knew what they wanted you to do, but kept most of it a secret from you. Then in the end they refused to help you, apart from a constant barrage of so-called advice."

"They knew how bad things were going to get. It was their way of preparing me for it. They were warning me, but I still had no idea!"

"How could you, when they kept so much from you?" Leia protested. "In any case, look what you managed to do _without_ their help."

"Maybe it was better that way. It's like I said before, I think you have to recognize what's inside you and deal with it by yourself. No-one else can tell you what's really there – no matter how much they try to make you believe they can."

Leia rested her head against Luke's shoulder. "I'm glad I've got you. I'd like to spend more time together like this."

"D'you wish everything was out in the open? That you didn't have to hide so much away?"

"I get frustrated with it. Not being able to tell people you're my brother is the hardest part. But even though it'd be nice not to feel I have to sneak away to train, I quite like keeping that secret. Gives me something to hold onto when things get really crazy." 

She gave a long, quiet sigh. "People knowing about Vader is different though. And now I feel even more confused about it because for the first time, I'm _really_ starting to wonder just what drove him to it."

"I don't think we'll ever really know. Not unless he comes back."

"But he won't, will he? It would've happened by now. They've all left you. It might've been nice to get some answers, but I guess they didn't think of that after you'd done what they wanted."

"Well I didn't do what they wanted. Not really. Ben wanted me to kill Vader."

"And Yoda?"

Luke laughed softly. "A lot of what he said was pretty ambiguous. He told me I had to confront Vader, but that covers a lot of things. As for that business in the cave..."

Leia snuggled up closely, squeezing Luke's arm. "We could talk for hours about this, and I'm not sure we'd get any further with it. But really you want to tell me about your meeting with Mon Mothma. Don't you?"

"D'you wanna know?"

"Yes... and no," Leia confessed.

And so, treading carefully, Luke told Leia everything Mon Mothma had said earlier on. When he'd finished, Leia was silent for a long time, and Luke said nothing, waiting.

Eventually, Leia stirred, raising her head from Luke's shoulder, searching out her wine goblet. Retrieving it and the flask, she refilled both their goblets slowly.

"I've not been fair to you," she said.

Luke shook his head, confused. "What d'you mean?"

"Because I've had a... memory. And I've refused to share it with you."

"I know it's painful for you. I don't think you're being unfair."

"But at least I have that. You've got nothing, unless I share what I have."

"I don't see it that way. I was always curious about my mother, but I had Aunt Beru. In everything that mattered she _was_ my mother – just like Bail Organa was your father."

"I know, but it's not that simple is it? I don't want to keep it from you, but it just... frightens me. It feels like one more piece of my life will disappear. It's not as though I have any proper memories. Just images and feelings. I don't know where they came from or how they got there – or if they're even real. Well, they can't be real can they?"

"But you're like me. We've always had all these strange dreams," Luke said, turning to face her. "When we were children we didn't know how to distinguish visions from imagination, but so many of the things we saw _were_ real. We both still see things that don't make sense, but we can't dismiss them as meaningless."

They'd discussed this many times in the past few months – how the strangeness of their childhood selves had sometimes caused others to look on them with suspicion and uncertainty. With very different upbringings, they'd expected to find very little in common from those early years. But they'd slowly uncovered this shared, and at times troubled, recognition they'd had as children that there was something different about them. Luke recalled how it'd felt, at times, like there'd been a second person inside, struggling to get out.

"You saw images of someone, and nobody _told_ you they were of your mother, but you just _knew_ ," Luke continued. "Just like you knew I was your brother. And it makes more sense for you to focus on an image of your mother because you never grew up with someone who filled that role." 

Breha Organa had died very early on in Leia's life, leaving Bail to bring Leia up alone. Luke understood that Leia's memories of her adoptive mother were equally precious to her, but they occupied a separate part of her mind. 

"But that's even more reason why it might be a fantasy," Leia replied.

"If your instincts say it's real, then it's real," Luke insisted.

Leia stared back at Luke for a long moment before she turned away and gazed into the fire. Her hair had fallen forward, shielding her face. She spoke softly, and Luke had to strain to hear her words.

"Grief. That's the feeling that runs through my so-called memory. I can't tell you about happiness, or laughter, or joy. I can't tell you I remember my mother touching me, or holding me, or even being with me. All I see is a face. Probably one I imagined."

Luke stayed silent, giving Leia the time and space she needed to broach this last, most difficult, subject between them.

"She was beautiful – but then what else would a young child imagine? And dark, like me, of course. If I'd known about you, maybe I'd have seen a different image." Her voice held a touch of bitterness, paving the way for the disillusionment she was clearly steeling herself to expect.

Leia turned suddenly, pushing her hair back and facing Luke. "All these years, I've told myself that the sadness I saw was on account of me. That the grief was because she was dying, and wouldn't be with me anymore." Leia gave a small laugh. "In my dreams, I turned myself into the focus of her life. And anyway, what was the alternative? Imagining her life to have been full of suffering and despair? Like it must've been."

"It wouldn't always have been like that. There must've been love," Luke pointed out.

"Must there? How do we know?"

Luke frowned. "We don't, for certain. I just believe there was. What other reason would there be for a Jedi to turn his back on the rules that probably forbade that sort of relationship?"

"I could think of plenty – none of them pretty."

Luke shook his head. "From what Mon Mothma said, Anakin was still a Jedi in the months before we were born. He didn't become Vader until around the time of our birth."

"I'd like to believe there _was_ love. But it's so difficult to imagine that with Vader."

"He wasn't always Vader."

"No," Leia sighed. "And of course, he loved you at the end didn't he?"

Luke took hold of her hand. "His last words were about you. Don't forget that."

There was a small silence before Leia squeezed Luke's hand. "Open your mind to me," she said.

Keeping hold of Leia's hand, Luke closed his eyes, letting the Force within him unlock the pathways into his mind, feeling the slow build-up of warmth that came from his connection to Leia. He could perceive the intensity within Leia, feel it in the increased pressure on his fingers. 

Suddenly it hit him. Leia had called it grief, but it was something much stronger than that. It was an overriding despair that wrenched at his heart and touched his nerve-endings with pain. The sadness was pervasive, but behind it was something even darker. Something indefinable. And there was death, its presence approaching like a spreading shadow, but far from being frightening it felt almost benign. Strangely unthreatening. 

As Luke attempted to interpret everything he was sensing, an image drifted hazily into his mind. The edges of it were indistinct, and it had an odd, off-focus distortion, like an object seen through a fogged lens. A woman's face, mirroring the pain and grief he discerned so strongly, long dark hair brushed back from a face that should have been beautiful but was clouded by too-strong emotion. He concentrated on the image, struggling to gain some trace of recognition or intimation of belonging. But there was nothing. Only... maybe something – an odd flicker of familiarity that Luke couldn't identify. But the vision was fading as Leia struggled to maintain the projection of the memory she'd guarded for so long.

The connection faltered, and Luke drew back slowly, opening his eyes to find Leia staring at him.

"Thank you," he said.

"It could be nothing." Leia looked exhausted, the emotional and physical drain of her intensive use of the Force sapping her energy in ways that Luke understood.

"I don't think so. No child would invent that kind of memory."

"You believe in it? Did it mean anything to you?"

"I believe it's _real_. For a moment, I thought there was something familiar there, but I'm not sure."

Leia shrugged, disappointment flashing through her eyes. "Then we're no further along. It could be something from the distant past, or even something from the future."

"I trust your instincts, and they're telling you it's not just a random vision."

Leia smiled slowly. "Then let's speak to Senator Danu."


	12. Chapter 12

"Leia Organa!" 

Giddean Danu walked swiftly across Mon Mothma's apartment to greet them. He clasped Leia's hands briefly before extending his greeting to Luke.

"And Jedi Skywalker, it's good to meet you again."

"You too Senator. But it's Luke, please."

Danu nodded his head in acknowledgement, then addressed Leia once more, a smile of apology on his face.

"Forgive the informality, but I did once know you. Only then, you were just learning to walk. I recall how determined you were to succeed." 

Leia smiled back at him. "Your name is well known to me, Senator. My father spoke often of you and hoped he could find a way to get you released. He had great admiration for you."

"As I did for him. He was a good friend. I'm so very sorry about all that's happened."

"Thank you. I know my father would be overjoyed that you're finally free and able to join us."

"First and foremost, he'd have been immensely proud of you, and all that you've achieved."

"I have him to thank for that. But I've only played a very small part in everything that's happened. The Alliance has worked as a team for this."

"I think you're underestimating your role, from what Mon Mothma has been telling me," Danu pointed out. "For one thing, I've heard the story of the Death Star plans." His glance passed between Luke and Leia. "I understand that both of you were deeply involved in the retrieval of those."

"Yes, but you'll never get Luke to admit he did very much." Leia gave Luke a brief, conspiratorial smile. 

"How are you finding things here on Arudin?" she asked Danu. "Chaotic I expect."

"It feels good to be back in the midst of things. My life on Belinar was dominated by boredom, so the chaos is a welcome change. I'm looking forward to finding a role here." He twisted round to look at Mon Mothma. "I believe Mon Mothma may have a suggestion, but she's insisted on me having these first few days to accustom myself to the set-up here."

Mon Mothma gave a soft laugh and moved to join them. "Coming straight from Belinar, I thought you deserved some freedom before I rope you into our less-than-relaxing schedule. But now you've mentioned it, I can tell you that I'm hoping to talk to you this evening about an assignment."

"Good, because I'm impatient for something to do. As I was saying to Senator Organa, things have been quiet for me for far too long."

Leia nodded. "We'll be glad of your help. But please, do stick to calling me Leia. It's what you must've called me before."

"Rather a long time ago."

"I know." Leia hesitated for a moment. "In fact, both of us were hoping to talk to you about the past," she added. "But maybe it should wait, if you've work to discuss with Mon Mothma?"

"My matter can wait," Mon Mothma said. "I'd wanted to get the Senator and Luke together before broaching it, but I know you have things you'd like to ask him and I think they're more important."

Danu looked at Luke and raised his eyebrows. Luke gave a small shrug, because he knew as little as Danu did about a possible collaboration between them. 

Danu turned back to Leia. "Is it general things about the past you want to know, or something specific?"

"Something specific," Leia said, her voice adopting a distinct note of insecurity. "But first, there's something we need to tell you."

***

Wearily, Han unfastened his comlink and tossed it onto the cluttered countertop in his apartment. The past few days had been as hectic as ever, and he and Chewie had spent most of their time flying backwards and forwards between the main base and Roqqini. The clearance project was now underway, and Han had thrown himself into it with a touch more enthusiasm than he might normally have shown. 

If he was honest about it, he'd admit he was simply trying to keep his mind occupied. He didn't need to think very hard to know what he'd end up brooding about if he'd had the spare time. 

He cast a quick glance around the apartment. Most of his stuff was still in the crate he'd thrown it into when he'd left the place he'd shared with Leia. He wondered if the fact that everything had fitted into one small container told him anything significant. Had he never properly moved into the previous apartment, preferring to keep his possessions on the Falcon? 

Maybe he was looking for hidden meanings where there were none. After all, he didn't own much that belonged off the Falcon. And everywhere they'd stayed over the past few years had been temporary. Short-term hiding places to hole up in, before the Empire flushed them out again. 

So he could explain it away with common-sense reasoning. Or he could admit to another possibility – that he'd failed to accept fully his first real planetside home since leaving Corellia. It was an uncomfortable thought because he'd always imagined that his outward show of commitment gave no clue to his inner uncertainties. 

And what had Luke seen, when he'd visited the two of them there? Maybe nothing. He'd been surprised when Han had told him of the break-up, but perhaps he'd consciously avoided considering Han and Leia's relationship in any more depth than the fact that it existed. Luke had used it as a shield, and Han had taken that from him. And Han had no idea how Luke would react once the reality of the situation sunk in. 

He'd made it clear to Han that his need to arrive at some decision over his future was beginning to dominate his life, and Han's sudden declaration was unlikely to have changed that. If anything, it would've added a whole new layer of issues for Luke to deal with. Han wondered how long it would be before Luke came up with a reason for leaving Arudin alone, just to gain the time to think. He had little doubt that it would happen.

Han walked across to the window and rubbed a palm across its dusty surface. It didn't have much of an outlook because the building turned at an angle just beyond his apartment, cutting off the view towards Jira. If he stretched his head out of the window, he could just catch a glimpse of the hilltop town on the other side of the valley. The sun had set too low and the distance was too great for Han to be able to distinguish the rough stone perimeter wall where he and Luke had walked to three nights ago, but he did note, with a slight shock, the steepness of the drop below the town. In the dark, the distance to the valley below had been indeterminable, and he wondered if Luke would have sat so nonchalantly on the wall if he'd realized how far up they were. But Luke probably _had_ known. Physical danger wasn't really an issue for Luke – it was his own self he saw as the biggest potential risk.

Since that night in Jira and the snatched moments at breakfast the following day, Luke had been so busy that he'd barely had a chance to exchange more than passing words with Han. There'd been a brief, hurried comlink conversation – Han in the midst of the clamor of machinery in Roqqini, and Luke rushing off on his way to a Rogue training flight. 

Luke had promised that he'd tell Han about his meeting with Mon Mothma in full when he got a chance. That chance didn't seem to be arriving, but that was typical of Luke's overfull schedule. The possibility that Luke was deliberately staying so busy, simply as an excuse to avoid spending any real time with him, had crossed Han's mind for a moment before he dismissed it outright. He'd said to Luke that night in Jira how Luke never flinched from facing difficulties. If he was viewing Han as one, he wouldn't stay away for that very reason.

***

The droid took its time refilling their glasses. Giddean Danu sipped at his refreshed drink, his brow creased in a thoughtful frown. 

"I remember Anakin Skywalker," he said eventually. "Young, enthusiastic, highly skilled. Headstrong too, by all accounts."

"Whose accounts?" Luke asked.

"Some of the Jedi. I had good friends there. Skywalker was the subject of many conversations following his rescue of the Chancellor, and not just among the Jedi."

"What did they say about him?"

"On a personal level? Nothing very damning. The Jedi were loyal to each other. But I got the impression that Skywalker wasn't the easiest person to deal with. Rather impatient and a bit quick-tempered. Not a stickler for the rules either."

"These rules... were they very important to the Jedi?"

"Of course," Danu replied. "All Jedi training in the Order was based on allegiance to their rules and code."

"D'you know the code?"

Danu shook his head. "Not really. I'm sure it was formally taught, but we outsiders understood it only in terms of what we saw."

"What did you see?" Leia asked.

Danu took another sip of his drink, and placed the glass carefully down on the table beside him. "Well, they were defenders of peace and justice. They weren't in favor of war, but if they needed to fight, then they'd do that too. In that sense they were warriors. They practiced a selfless existence, and formed no ties that might distract them from that."

Luke frowned. "You mean they had no personal relationships?"

"Are you asking about friendships, or something more?"

"Both really."

"Friendships they had plenty of, and deep ones too," Danu said. "The bond between a master and an apprentice ran very deep, and one would surely have died for the other. A form of love, undoubtedly. But beyond that?" Danu hesitated. "No – they didn't allow themselves more. Their focus was on the Jedi Order, and what they could achieve within it. Other attachments were seen to be distracting and open to the wrong kind of emotions."

Luke grimaced. "And Anakin Skywalker developed just such an attachment." The words ' _and look where it got him_ ' remained unspoken, but hung heavily in the ensuing silence nevertheless.

"If you're looking for insight into what happened to your father, I can't give you any. Not really. All I can say is that he clearly broke the code. Whether that had any bearing on later events, I can't say."

"Those last few days – before the Jedi Temple was destroyed – did you see or hear anything about him?" Leia asked tentatively.

Danu shook his head. "Not specifically about Skywalker. There was some talk about the Jedi. Rumors that they were acting against the Republic."

"But you didn't believe the rumors?"

Danu smiled at Leia. "No. I'd stopped trusting Palpatine some time before, and I was convinced he was instrumental in starting the talk against the Jedi. It didn't suit him politically to have them asking questions about him. People listened to the Jedi. So obviously, they had to go."

"Were many people asking questions?"

"Oh yes. This won't sound like much, but we got together a petition of two thousand names to present to the Chancellor. Not many, I admit, when you look at the galaxy as a whole. But we were living through a time of great fear and distrust. Many worlds were simply too afraid to add their voices to ours."

Leia nodded and cast a quick glance at Luke. He gave her a small smile back and picked up the line of questioning. "Joining with the Jedi wasn't an option? I understand none of you knew who to trust. Mon Mothma explained how things were."

The senator shifted in his seat, the small movement managing to convey how troubling Danu found his old memories. "If we'd known for certain..." He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "For me, allying with the Jedi was the right way to go. But I didn't have the support of the majority of the group." 

He looked across at Mon Mothma, unspoken apology written across his face. "They were right to be cautious. It's easy to look back with hindsight and see where we went wrong. In the end though, it made no difference. Events simply moved too quickly for all of us, the Jedi included."

"So many terrible things happened in the space of a few days," Mon Mothma added. "If you all knew how many times I've wished that we could've prevented it all."

Leia cleared her throat, the trace of nervousness that had been apparent earlier showing once more in her expression and in the barely perceptible tensing of her shoulders. She addressed Senator Danu. 

"Mon Mothma told Luke about the first meetings of the Rebel Alliance. How you started it up. She said there'd been another member of your group who'd wanted to involve the Jedi from the beginning."

Danu studied Leia's face for a moment. "Senator Amidala of Naboo held a similar opinion to mine," he replied. "She was close to the Jedi and trusted them completely. She wanted to tell a member of the Order about our suspicions regarding the Chancellor, but as I've said, we were outnumbered by those against the idea."

"Do you... Can you remember which Jedi it was? Who it was she was close to?"

Luke watched Danu, and noticed how his eyes clouded over briefly with recollections that seemed painful. But Danu was also puzzling over Leia's reaction to the name he'd given out – his eyes searching Leia's face for a reason for her uneasiness. 

As the silence expanded into several seconds, Luke noticed a subtle change in the senator's posture. He'd moved fractionally forwards in his chair, and a new alertness had stolen across his face. Luke read awareness in the increased stillness of Danu's body, and felt inside himself a small flutter of anticipation. He waited for Danu's answer with a mixture of expectation and foreboding, unsure as to why the latter feeling had suddenly grown much stronger.

"She never told me directly. I know she was good friends with Master Kenobi." Danu paused for a moment, as though considering his words. "I understood, from comments she made to me in private, that she was also friendly with Master Kenobi's apprentice, although she never mentioned him by name in conversation."

"Anakin Skywalker was Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprentice," Leia said. The remark fell into another short silence. It hadn't been necessary to say it – Senator Danu knew that fact as well as they did, but Luke knew that Leia was pushing for a level of directness that Danu might be reluctant to provide. He glanced at Leia and caught her eye. The tiniest exchange passed between them, revealing Leia's determination to proceed with this, regardless of how difficult she was finding it.

"Did you know that the Senator was carrying a child?" Leia asked.

Danu nodded slowly. "It was another thing she never alluded to, but it soon became obvious. She tried to hide it, and I'm sure she mostly succeeded. But in the last days of the Republic we'd drawn together more than usual, and I think she'd realized that I knew. She gave herself away – just the occasional stray touch of her hand, or a momentary lapse of concentration, when I suspect she'd felt the baby move. I never saw her do these things in the company of others. I don't know why she allowed her guard to slip in front of me – our friendship never developed into a deep one."

 _But there'd been Danu's allegiance to the Jedi – they'd had something in common, however slight_ , Luke thought. "So it was a secret she wanted to keep well guarded?"

"We all had secrets in those days – there was nothing unusual in that. But I respected her decision not to mention it, and I believe she was grateful for that." A small frown passed across Danu's brow. "I wondered at first if the baby might cause her difficulties in terms of her position. But the more I saw of her, the more I doubted that was the reason for her fear."

Leia shifted closer to Luke, her sudden movement coinciding exactly with a sharp stab of presentiment that took Luke by surprise, and made his breath catch slightly in his throat.

Noticing their reactions, Danu seemed anxious to clarify his remark. "We were all afraid of how things were going. There were hundreds of issues that could've caused Senator Amidala a lot of anxiety."

"But you thought there was something more going on with her? Something other than the problems in the Senate?" Luke asked, sensing the Senator's preference for keeping the conversation in some sort of bounds. But it was too late for that – they all knew where the subject was leading, and even though Danu was unlikely to admit to any certainty, his body language had already given away the direction of his thoughts.

Danu returned Luke's gaze, and he gave a small nod, acknowledging his own caution. 

"There was no doubt she was disturbed by something. This will sound strange, but at times she gave the impression of someone torn between denial and acceptance of whatever it was she feared. I never found out which choice she'd made in the end. If indeed there'd been a choice."

"Because she died," Leia pointed out bluntly.

"Yes. And I was deeply shocked by that," Danu admitted. "We'd been at war, of course. Death was commonplace, and fear of assassination was something we senators lived with on a daily basis. But there was never a proper explanation for her death, and that bothered me. I had the feeling something out of the ordinary had happened. Bail Organa was the one who told me, and even then I felt he was holding something back. He was very upset, but that was understandable. He'd assumed the task of telling her family, which can't have been easy for him."

"Did my father... did Bail mention her baby?" Leia asked, stumbling over her words.

Danu nodded. "That in itself was odd. None of us had ever referred to the baby before. Just before her death, Senator Amidala had grown too large to hide the truth any more, but the aura of secrecy remained. There'd been no real reason for Bail to have mentioned it at all – even if they'd saved the baby, it was none of my business and I would've assumed the senator's family would've taken responsibilty."

Leia gave a short laugh. "No real reason but the obvious one. That he'd wanted the information to become common knowledge. Because no-one's going to bother hunting down a dead child."

***

Han had turned off his comlink and turned down the lighting to a subdued glow that matched his mood. He'd flung the window open wider and the sounds of laughter and the never-ending activity of the base drifted up into his room.

He realized he was doing exactly what he'd tried so hard to avoid over the last few days, but his overall feeling of lethargy made him reluctant to seek an alternative.

Down in the pilots' common room, the guys would be wondering where he was. Undoubtedly, they'd try his comlink and on finding it inaccessible, would dispatch someone to track him down. They'd decide amongst themselves that they were doing him a favor. Lately, he'd had nothing but sympathetic pats on the back from friends and colleagues, all of whom were clearly thinking he was taking the split from Leia very badly. Hiding himself away in his room would just add to that perception. 

In some ways they were right. He _had_ taken it badly. But they were so far off understanding what it was he was feeling bad about, that there wasn't any point in denying anything.

Because as well as guilt over Leia, Han was now feeling guilt over Luke. He'd forced him into admitting feelings that Han knew Luke had big problems with. And he'd pushed Luke into an impossible situation where any choice Luke now made would end up hurting someone. 

Han had also begun to wonder if he'd jeopardized even his friendship with Luke by the way he'd behaved. He'd been like some wild animal, letting his feelings take precedence over everything else, slamming Luke back against that wall and barely giving him a chance to breathe, let alone to tell Han what he wanted. But Luke had chosen, for the second time, not to shove Han away. And he'd responded to Han in a way that had nearly made Han lose control completely.

The memory of the sound Luke had made when Han kissed him shot a now familiar spike of longing through Han's blood, and he sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. In many ways, it might've been easier if Luke _had_ pushed him away. If Luke now turned round and said he was leaving, Han would have to contend with the too-vivid memory of those kisses.

The door buzzer made him jump guiltily, caught out in thoughts that were starting to take over. Han scowled, irritated by the unwanted interruption, and stalked over to hit the control panel.

He'd anticipated the visit, expecting to find one of the Rogues standing outside his door, full of assurances for a busy night out. Or Lando, waiting to remind Han of his promise of a drink together. Or maybe Chewie, a growl of concern at the ready, along with an endless supply of advice. He wouldn't even have been surprised to see one of the tech crew, bringing an offering of an elusive engine part. But the last person he'd expected to find there was Luke.


	13. Chapter 13

"Is this a bad time?"

Han shook his head, aware that his expression still wore a trace of his former disgruntlement. He moved back to let Luke in, trying to remain as laid-back as possible until he'd determined why Luke had come.

"I've finished for the day. Thought you were gonna be Lando."

"You didn't expect me at all, did you?"

"I know you've been busy."

"But that's not why you didn't think I'd come."

Han shrugged. "Thought you'd want some time to yourself seein' as I've messed you about."

"You haven't messed me about. I'm managing to do that well enough by myself."

"I haven't exactly helped."

Luke walked over to the window and glanced out. A loud shout from below filled the room, although the words were incomprehensible. A burst of laughter followed it, and Luke leaned forwards, looking down onto the concourse below.

"Someone's havin' fun," Han remarked. 

Luke turned round. "I had to do another shift yesterday 'cause Wes injured his foot. It meant working most of the night. And I saw Leia the night before. We trained together. I wanted to see you afterwards, but it was so late–"

"I wouldn't have cared how late it was."

"It wasn't just the time. It wouldn't have seemed... right. Things have got so confused – it's hard to explain."

"You don't need to explain anything. It's obvious, ain't it? Did you say anything to Leia?"

"No. And that felt wrong too. But she's not the only reason I can't work things out."

"It's because you don't know what you wanna do with your life, and I've just made things worse."

"It's not that either, although it's true I don't know what I should be doing. It's more that... it didn't feel wrong between us."

Something like hope surged in Han's chest for a moment, before he damped it down. Where Luke was concerned nothing was simple, and if something had felt right to him he'd be looking for the deeper meaning beneath it, rather than accepting it for what it was.

"And that's a problem 'cause you think it should've done," he stated bluntly.

"Obviously there _are_ things that seem wrong and I'm not trying to dismiss them. Leia–"

"And that's one of the ways I've messed you about. It wasn't fair to spring it on you straight away. Wasn't fair on Leia either."

"I don't think she sees it like that. You could've waited a whole year, but it wouldn't have changed the facts. Knowing what she does, she'd rather something more definite happened so she can start to move on. I can see her point, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"And that's what you're leading up to – isn't it? That it's time to make a decision so _you_ can move on, one way or the other."

"I keep going over everything in my head," Luke admitted. "I wonder if I've been missing the whole point of Ben and Yoda's teachings, because I'm supposed to be able to trust my feelings. But they don't match the way I know I _should_ feel."

"So maybe you oughta trust yourself more. If something seems right to you, why's it gotta be such a problem?"

"Because I keep thinking of Vader. What did he want so badly that he turned his back on the Jedi order and all its rules in order to get it? What was it the Emperor used to drag him down?"

"You don't know what he wanted and you don't know why he turned. You don't even know for sure it was the Emperor's doing."

Luke shook his head slowly. "No. If I did know for sure, things might be a lot easier."

_Or they might be a lot worse_ , Han thought. "Well you know what I want and I ain't gonna pretend otherwise. But I won't try pushin' you into anything, so whatever you decide, I won't interfere."

Luke fell silent and turned back round to look out of the window again. Han paced the floor a couple of times, unsure where to take the conversation next. Playing for time, he moved over to his crate of possessions.

"I'm gonna get a drink. D'you want one? Or d'you have to rush off?"

"I don't have to rush off anywhere. I was hoping you'd have time to talk."

Han rooted around in the crate, searching for the bottle of redgrain spirit that Luke liked. He handed it, together with a passably clean beaker, to Luke. 

Luke took it with a smile and watched while Han poured himself a large mug of brandy. He moved across to sit on Han's bed, leaning back against the wall and propping the spirit bottle up beside his legs.

They sat in silence for a while, each occupied with their own thoughts. Han spent several long moments just considering Luke, wondering how it was that someone who appeared to be so calm and peaceful on the surface could be a person of such extremes. Because Luke _was_ that, even though the extremes weren't the glaringly obvious sort.

It was the little things. Like he didn't just like spicy food, he liked searingly hot, strip-the-skin-from-your-mouth spicy food. The sort that made your lips turn numb, and brought you out in a hot sweat. At least, it did Han. It was the same with the redgrain spirit. That was no mellow, mild liquor and despite its innocuous looks it deserved to come with a safety warning. But, naturally, Luke liked it. He didn't go for bland, and he didn't go for average. And when Luke trained, he didn't just push himself hard, he launched himself into the most exhausting, punishing regimes possible, determined to channel every last bit of energy into his routines. 

In fact, Luke's whole life had been like that ever since Han had met him. And it was typical that he should come from a desert world baked by two suns, living every day under extremes of heat and glare. Anywhere more moderate just wouldn't have suited him. And he dived right into the craziest situations. Most people might've started their battles with the Empire on a smaller scale, but Luke, of course, began with the Death Star. It was like he just stood up, looked around, spotted the most dangerous circumstances, and walked on over.

"Mon Mothma's asked me to go to Polis Massa," Luke said suddenly, interrupting the silence and startling Han out of his contemplation of Luke.

"Where the hell's that?"

"Somewhere in the Outer Rim. There's not much there. It's just an asteroid, but it's got a settlement of sorts."

"Why does she want you to go there?"

"It's not just me. She wants me to go with Senator Danu. The place had strong links with the Old Republic during the Clone Wars. Especially with the Jedi."

Han shook his head, puzzled. "That doesn't answer my question." 

"The Polis Massans contacted her a few months ago – not long after the Emperor died. They want to re-establish contact with the rest of the galaxy, and especially with the Jedi. I suppose they heard something..."

"The whole galaxy heard about you in just a few days. But why didn't she ask you before?"

Luke hesitated. "She said she'd thought it was too soon. She wanted to give me time to find my feet, and she didn't know if I wanted that kind of role. It's one thing going somewhere as a Rogue who just happens to be a Jedi, but going as some sort of Jedi Ambassador is a different thing altogether."

"Yeah," Han agreed, wondering at the vagueness that lay beneath Luke's explanation. "Where does Danu fit in? Is he the one who's just come out of exile? Have you spoken to him?"

"Yes. And that's the strange thing. When Mon Mothma mentioned the possibility of going, Danu looked like he knew something about the place. And I'm pretty certain he'd already talked to Mon Mothma about going somewhere with me, even though he made out it was all news to him. It all feels... odd."

"Odd how?"

"I don't know. I think Mon Mothma held off from mentioning it for some other reason. I got the idea she thinks there's something there for me. Something to do with those old links with the Jedi Order. She claims not to know anything though." 

Han studied Luke for a few moments. "So you think this is gonna have some bearing on you deciding what you wanna do?"

"Yes," Luke admitted. He returned Han's gaze steadily. "But it's not Polis Massa I'm thinking of. I doubt there'll be any answers there. It's Danu himself. If I go with him, it'll give me a chance to discover everything he knows."

"Knows about what?"

"My mother."

Han was struck by the perception that something almost within his grasp had slipped a little further away, although he didn't know quite why he should feel so ill at ease. "Danu knows who your mother was?" he asked eventually.

Luke gave a small shrug. "He's not certain at all. He had no idea that Anakin Skywalker had become Vader. But he was close to the Jedi during the Clone Wars and he was part of the first Rebel Alliance group. Friends with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. And he was friendly with another member of their group because she had sympathies with the Jedi like he did."

"Another senator?"

Luke nodded. "Danu says she had a deeper friendship with at least one of the Jedi. But she also had a lot of secrets. Danu told me she'd hidden her pregnancy away like it was something... sinful."

Han frowned. "Did she tell Danu she was involved with a Jedi?"

"No. She said nothing at all, either about the pregnancy or about seeing a Jedi. He only had his suspicions."

"But the father could've been anyone," Han argued. "And just 'cause she knew a Jedi didn't mean she was sleeping with him."

"I know. But it's not just Danu's instincts. It's Mon Mothma's too."

So Han listened in silence while Luke described in detail his first meeting with Mon Mothma, and then the one he'd just come from in Mon Mothma's apartment.

After Luke had finished, Han moved to the other side of the room, resting a shoulder against the wall by the window and trying to rid himself of the unease that had pretty much cancelled out the calming effects of the brandy.

"So when are you gonna go to this asteroid?"

"Tomorrow."

The dismay was instant, and Han knew it showed across his face. He didn't bother to hide it. "I s'ppose you don't know how long you'll stay?"

"It'll be at least three days once we arrive – and it'll take us about the same length of time to get there," Luke said. "Mon Mothma wants Danu to try and persuade the Polis Massans to share their medical research with the Alliance. And because of the past links with the Jedi she thinks my presence might swing the balance in our favor."

"You might be gone a helluva lot longer then."

"I've been on assignments before that've lasted a lot longer," Luke pointed out.

"But you've always wanted to come back."

Luke stared at him. "I want to come back from this one."

Han didn't say anything, so Luke put the bottle and beaker down on the floor, pushed off the bed and walked over to him. "These worries I have about what to do... they don't mean I want to get away from you. I _want_ to be with you."

Han didn't reply and tried to cover up his obvious silence by sipping his brandy slowly, telling himself he was reading the wrong meanings into things yet again.

"D'you want me to leave you alone?" Luke asked, cutting into Han's thoughts.

"Nope. Why – d'you wanna go?" 

Luke shook his head. "But staying isn't the right thing either is it? The last thing I want to do is to cause any more damage." 

Han put his drink down on the ledge beneath the window and placed his hands on Luke's shoulders. "Listen – that night in Jira you made it clear you couldn't make any sorta commitment. Anything I chose to do after that was down to me, and it's _my_ problem if I can't handle it, not yours. You've never pretended it was gonna be easy."

Luke ran a hand up Han's arm. "Have we ever done anything easily?" he asked with a half smile.

"Not that I can think of," Han grinned. "I might've led a trouble-free life if I hadn't met you though."

"Being hunted down by Jabba counted as trouble free?"

Han shrugged. "When you weigh it up against everything else – yeah."

"Oh, right," Luke laughed. "Well, at least you've never needed to complain about being bored." He moved up closer to Han. "Not that I'm implying you ever complain about anything else."

"Hey, I'm easy to please."

"Really?"

"Well, not that easy..." Han tailed off distractedly, caught up in the warmth of Luke's gaze and the nearness of him. 

"Luke..." he started, not sure of what he wanted to say, but somehow it didn't seem to matter any more because Luke's arms had wound around him and pulled him up close.

"I've missed you," he ended up saying instead, sliding his fingers into Luke's hair and grazing his lips against Luke's cheek. "Stay with me tonight, huh?"

Luke's reply was to lift his head, his lips meeting Han's with just the faintest hint of a sigh. Han's fingers entwined themselves more tightly in Luke's hair as Luke's hands moved up behind Han's neck. Han could feel the heat of Luke's body radiating from him and he moved further into the comfort of it. 

The need to be close to Luke was part of an all-encompassing craving that'd overridden Han's former doubts, and even if he had the capacity to question the wisdom of his actions he'd still choose to be with Luke this way. Han knew he was setting himself up for much greater hurt if Luke's reasoning led him towards the solitary life he considered might be essential, but in this moment he'd gone beyond logic. 

There was just Luke, with the fiery taste of redgrain spirit on his lips and the clean scent of 'fresher gel on his skin. Luke, who'd admitted that he couldn't make these feelings between them seem wrong, despite all the obstacles in their way.

And neither could Han. Even the muted warnings in the back of his mind couldn't dim the rush of desire that flooded through him, just as it had that night in Jira. But now Han wanted more. He wanted the press of Luke's body against his, the brush of Luke's breath against his flesh, and the glide of skin beneath his palms.

He pulled back from Luke's encircling arms to fix his gaze on Luke, noting how Luke's eyes seemed to reflect all the turbulent thoughts that Han couldn't hide.

He felt he should say something, just to make it clear that he'd understood everything Luke had told him. "I'm not gonna demand anything. No ties. No strings attached..."

Luke shook his head but Han knew it wasn't a dismissal of his promise, just a wordless attempt by Luke to quieten his concerns. And then Luke reached out to take hold of one of Han's hands and moved back towards the bed, pulling Han with him. 

It should've felt more familiar to Han – he'd made love to Luke in every stray thought that'd crept up on him since Jira. But instead it was all so new and different, and Han's fingers struggled with the fastenings of a tunic he'd seen Luke wear many times before. He was somewhere in between the impatience of lust, and the slow recognition of amazement that stemmed from the simple fact that Luke was here with him at all. After three days of telling himself to hope for nothing, aware of the dangers in wanting what might be out of reach, Han was intent on absorbing the reality of Luke's physical presence.

So now he observed the rise and fall of Luke's chest, and studied the way his hands, tracing the indentations of Luke's ribs, brought a soft shiver to the surface of Luke's skin. He leaned down to run his lips across a bared shoulder and over Luke's throat, lingering over the pulse that thrummed beneath his tongue. 

He moved back up to kiss Luke again, holding off the urgency of need by focusing on that same sense of wonderment, searching Luke with his tongue until Luke shifted restively beneath him and groaned quietly into Han's mouth. 

Han framed Luke's face with his hands, his words filled with a quiet dissent that he couldn't conceal. "Dunno how this can be wrong. Feels so good to be with you."

Luke lifted his fingers to Han's lips. "Don't," he murmured. "Just let things work out."

Han kissed Luke's fingers. "But it won't go away, will it?"

Luke said nothing, but pulled Han's head down instead, kissing him fiercely, the grip of his fingers tightening as he strained to mold their bodies together. The contact wasn't enough for either of them. Luke half pushed and half rolled Han over, sat up and struggled to free his arms from the now tangled tunic. He threw it onto the floor and turned his attention to Han's shirt. 

Han watched Luke as he tugged at the buttons, the concentration on his face vying with frustration at his new-found lack of co-ordination. It was all still there in Luke – the impulsiveness and the fiery nature that those who knew him only slightly never guessed at. It all came together in a single moment when Luke lost patience with the shirt and pulled it unceremoniously over Han's head. 

Sparing just a second for a fleeting smile of recognition for his own impetuous behavior, Luke reached out to touch Han.

To feel Luke's hands on his body produced something close to shock deep inside, as though it'd finally dawned on Han just how closely Luke's yearning for him mirrored Han's for Luke. It threatened to allow that hunger he was just containing to take over, but the side of him that needed to burn every second of their encounter into his brain kept him balanced. He was halfway ready to lose control, but still reluctant to relinquish it. 

As Luke's fingertips trailed across his chest and down his abdomen, he felt the tremor behind them and knew that Luke's battle for that same balance was even greater. 

Han hauled Luke close and slid his palms down Luke's back. Warmth and smoothness and shudders that anticipated his touch, before his fingers encountered the roughness of partially-healed grazes.

Surprised, Han pulled back, meeting Luke's puzzled gaze.

"That's from the other night?"

Luke's confused frown deepened. "What?"

Han took hold of Luke's shoulders and twisted him around to study his back. Three days on, and the cuts on Luke's lower back remained only as irregular, raised patches, but the bruises hadn't yet begun to fade. Han ran his fingers carefully over the evidence of his own lack of care that night.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

Luke shook his head, amusement in his voice. "It wasn't you, it was the wall."

"Yeah, 'n I was the one who shoved you against it."

"Han," Luke swiveled back round to face him, "d'you think I care about a few bruises? And anyway, that wasn't how it was."

"'S how I remember it."

"That's because you're doing that apologizing thing again. But there were two of us involved that night – it's as much my fault as yours."

Han wanted to protest further, but Luke placed a hand over Han's mouth. "I don't wanna hear it," he insisted, with a smile that made Han's breath catch in his throat. Luke took his hand away. "Why don't you come back here instead?"

Impossible not to, and Han caught Luke's mouth with his own, lowering him back down onto the bed and bringing their bodies tightly together. Han could feel Luke's need for him in the hunger of his kiss and the subtle vibration of a moan in his throat. It was there in the tension of his body, and the instinctive rise of his hips. And it was there in the sharp gasp that escaped from Luke's lips as Han moved against him with a sudden, swift vehemence.

And Han could almost sense the conflict within Luke too. There was the impulsion of desire that left unchecked would most likely have run wild and left Han reeling. And set against it was the strength of Luke's will-power, because Han knew that somehow Luke understood what it was that Han wanted. Guessed that Han felt compelled to memorize each moment in order to hold the knowledge of Luke's body inside himself when Luke had gone. 

Han wanted to alleviate all his disquiet and all his insecurities by holding Luke, to avert his fear of losing Luke with the touch of his hands on Luke's skin. But with his legs entangled with Luke's and every nerve in his body fired up from only the simplest contact, it was becoming more and more difficult to center himself.

He forced himself to move away again, just a little, but enough to draw a soft groan of objection from Luke. But the protest changed to something close to a demand when Han slid his fingertips just below the waistband of Luke's pants, the gesture both a promise and an attempt to soothe the simmering anticipation he could see in Luke's eyes.

His fingers found the clasp of Luke's belt. Slowly he pulled it from the belt loops and tossed it to the floor on top of his shirt. Reached for Luke's comlink and removed it from around Luke's wrist. He studied the communicator for just a few seconds, then switched it off and threw it aside. 

Luke watched him through half-closed eyes, his breathing uneven and raggedly audible. When Han reached for Luke's boots and pulled them off to join the growing pile of items on the floor, he suspected that something in Luke was about to give. The thought crawled through Han's insides, arousal clogging his airways and burning in his blood. He was painfully, achingly hard, and each murmur that broke from Luke's lips inflamed him further.

Han saw how Luke's fingers clutched at the sheet beneath when he ran the palm of a hand over the hard jut of Luke's erection, aware of the fierce heat through the remaining layers of cloth. Heard the hiss of an in-drawn breath and noticed Luke's knuckles turn white as he stripped away the last of Luke's clothes and flung the remainder of his own garments down with them.

It felt like belonging. Felt like something he'd been searching for all his life when he wrapped his arms around Luke. Everything else – the problems, the guilt, the uncertainty for the future – had faded to nothing. With his tongue in Luke's mouth he felt, more than heard, all the low throaty sounds that Luke made. And with his hands on Luke's body again, possessive and greedy, he discovered what it was like to lose himself totally to another person. 

Luke's resolve was wavering on the edge of breaking, and Han could see in him all the restless, wanton energy just waiting beneath the surface. As he trailed the tips of two fingers along the inside of Luke's lower lip, the slow shiver that passed through Luke traveled simultaneously across Han's whole body, and he knew that raw instinct was about to take over.

It took just a moment more to happen. He sought Luke's mouth again with his own, and pushed a thigh between Luke's knees in a mute demand for something more intimate. He felt the rapid tensing of Luke's muscles as he moved a hand down Luke's body. Just the merest brush of his fingers was enough to make Luke's control snap, his harsh exclamation going no further than Han's mouth and his body twisting upwards, searching for contact with Han.

There was no time to find a joint rhythm. There was just an all-consuming urge to push himself and Luke to the edge of falling. It obliterated every thought of Han's, leaving him aware of little but the feel of Luke's fingers gripping his hips, and the hard, burning heat beneath him as Luke moved against him. And Han gripped back, his legs entwined with Luke's and his hands sliding beneath Luke to bring him closer. They were about to end it, and even if he'd wanted to Han couldn't have slowed down, wrapped up as he was in Luke's relentless need.

In the last few seconds before he came, Han tore his lips from Luke's in order to fasten his gaze on Luke's face. Luke stared back at him for just a moment, before his eyes closed involuntarily and his fingers tightened on Han's hips, dragging their bodies so thoroughly together than Han could no longer distinguish where he ended and Luke began. 

It was some time before Luke eased his hold on Han and Han's senses began to return to a semblance of normality. When Luke had come, he'd spoken Han's name and even in Han's dazed state he'd known that the moment had been there in Luke's mind indefinitely, just waiting to happen. 

It gave Han the strange sensation that he'd stepped across a threshold without checking if solid ground lay beneath his feet. And after all the wrong turnings he'd taken in the last few years, he still didn't know if he'd get the chance to put them all right.


	14. Chapter 14

"Han – how would you deal with the death of someone you really cared about?"

Half asleep, Han dragged his mind back into the land of wakefulness. "You mean _your_ death," he stated. "Ain't gonna happen so it's a pointless question."

"I didn't necessarily mean mine, but even if I did, you can't just say it won't happen."

"I did just say it." Han burrowed deeper into the warm space occupied by Luke, knowing that his response wouldn't deter Luke from pursuing the conversation.

"Anything could happen at any time. A swoop gang or something–"

"Then they'd be the ones comin' off worse for it," Han interrupted. "A swoop gang's kids' stuff for you."

"I'm just being hypothetical. It wouldn't really matter how it happened."

"And I'm not gettin' into this. This is another one of your no-win arguments 'cause whatever _I_ felt like doing couldn't be something _you'd_ do if it was the other way round because Yoda said you ain't allowed to have any feelings. And you're gonna say how much worse it'd be now if something happened to one of us, 'cause we've gone and done what we've done."

Luke didn't say anything, so Han rolled over on top of him, using his body to hold him in place. "Well think about this – it'd make no difference to me if you'd got yourself killed before or after this. I'd feel the same. It was too late to protect me from not coping with your death the moment you walked into my goddamn life, so don't start thinking you're gonna make life easier for me by clearing off."

"I wasn't –"

Han silenced him by kissing him on the lips. "You're just so damn difficult, that's your problem."

Luke laughed at that. "Whereas you're just sweetness and light the whole time."

"Yeah, I am," Han agreed.

"Alright, I'll try not to be so _damn difficult_."

"Good, 'cause if I've gotta put up with you for the whole night, I can think of better things to do than argue with you."

"Like what?"

"Like finding out just how far that Jedi stamina of yours stretches for one."

"And how d'you plan on doing that?" 

"I've got a few ideas, but you're gonna have to be patient. Not something you've shown much of lately."

"Unlike you of course."

"Ain't me who goes around tellin' everyone else to be patient," Han said smugly. "And didn't Yoda say you had to learn control?"

"Yes, but I don't think he had this precise situation in mind," Luke grinned. "But as you're so interested in my Jedi training program, I could demonstrate a few more things to you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Like this." 

Han never saw it coming, and barely even felt Luke move, but all of a sudden their positions were reversed. Luke had flipped him over and pinned him down, holding Han's wrists above his head in a grip that felt like durasteel. To all intents he was practically immobilized.

"Not bad," Han said, a little breathlessly. Luke was moving a foot against the inside of Han's ankle, and it was sending small tremors up the whole of Han's leg. He tried to move, but Luke had anticipated that, tightening his hold instantly.

"How long are you gonna keep me like this?"

"I thought you wanted me to show some control. And it'll give you a chance to prove how patient _you_ can be." 

Somehow Luke had managed to work his foot a little higher up Han's leg, causing Han's words to come out more hoarsely than he'd intended.

"I've had second thoughts about that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Patience is overrated. Besides, I've got a better idea."

"I don't know... I quite like this one.

"Trust me, you'll like mine better."

Luke grinned at him again. "Looks like we'll have to compromise." 

Han closed his eyes as Luke leaned in to kiss him, belatedly noticing that Luke still had hold of one of his wrists.

***

_She ran through the lower gardens of the palace, far beneath the spires that cast their shadows across the snowy mountain peaks. The scent of the flowers her father grew to remind him of her adoptive mother followed her as she made her way towards the lake. The hem of her dress caught on a thorn, and she pulled it free, uncaring that it made a jagged tear in the fabric._

_She kept going until she reached the bridge across the first ornamental waterway. Picked up a stick and ran it along the struts of the balustrade, just as her father always did. The stick made a satisfying, high-pitched ringing sound, but even that failed to console her._

_Beneath the bridge was a small hollow reaching back into the softstone bank of the waterway. It was probably once the home of some small animal, but the creature had long since abandoned it, leaving no trace of its identity. The hollow was dry, warm and secret, and Leia fitted inside it well if she backed her way into it and brought her knees up to her chin._

_Only when she'd safely hidden herself away did she let the tears fall, and once they started they wouldn't stop. But it was safe to cry in there. Nobody could hear her or point at her and tell her she was strange. She didn't know why such odd things kept happening to her, and why they became worse when she grew cross or upset. Sometimes she thought that other children provoked her deliberately, just to see what peculiar things might happen when Leia shouted back._

_And she didn't know why her father would always pretend that the things hadn't happened, or come up with some sensible explanation that might've been okay if it had been true. Yet she never got the sense that her father disbelieved her. It was more like he didn't want to believe her._

_"Leia."_

_The voice was soft, concerned. She wanted to crawl out of her hiding place and lose herself in his comforting hug. But she stayed quiet and tried not to breathe in case he heard her. She knew it was silly, but she felt that disclosing this very private place would cause it to lose its charm._

_She heard her father moving away, just to the other side of the bridge. He stopped and she guessed he was waiting. He wouldn't be able to see the hollow from where he stood so she knew it was safe to come out._

_She ran to him. Let him pick her up and enfold her in his arms. Listened to his calm voice that worked to soothe away her fears and make everything right again..._

Leia woke up with the warmth of her father's love still enclosing her like an aura, and the awareness of it made her smile. Somebody had once told her that when people dreamed, they began to forget the details from the first moment of waking, and shortly after that they'd have no recollections of the dream at all. It didn't work like that for Leia.

Her dreams were different because they often involved memories. Even now she could almost feel the coolness of the softstone cubbyhole against her back, and hear the clinking of a stick against the bars of the bridge. Her seven-year-old self had firmly believed that as long as no-one saw her go in and out of the burrow, then the place would remain secret. She wondered how often Bail had followed her down there, waiting at a discreet distance until she chose to come out and he could pretend he'd just found her.

Leia kept still, wanting to stay in the safe seclusion of memories for just a little longer. There was something else too, that had crept inside and touched her with an undefined hint of happiness. It was far too elusive to isolate, but she sensed that it had some connection to Luke. 

Over the last few days, and with all that had happened, no-one had specifically asked her what she hoped the outcome would be. They were all too concerned for her wellbeing, and were suffering the combined weight of guilt and denial. To Leia it had all been simple – until the night she'd trained with Luke. Her answer would still be the same. That she wanted peace for Luke. The problem now was that the manner in which she'd hoped he'd find it appeared far less straightforward than she'd first believed.

Her disquiet returned in full, chasing away the last vestiges of reassurance brought by the dream. Nothing felt secure any more, and all the structure of support she'd built around herself since the destruction of Alderaan felt as flimsy as paper. The knowledge of what she was, and whose daughter she was, had started to exact a price.

***

Han opened his eyes, feeling cold all over. The warmth of Luke, both physical and intangible, had disappeared. He sat up slowly, pulling the sheet close around him to alleviate the chill. There was no sign of Luke, and no trace of his clothing on the floor where Han had strewn it about last night. 

He reached for his chrono and peered at the time in the half light. He'd been asleep for barely two hours and could feel the pull of weariness in his shoulder muscles. It was very early in the morning, and Luke would be leaving for Polis Massa with as little sleep as Han. 

The realization hit Han like a blast of icy water. Luke had gone, and all the things he'd meant to say to him remained unsaid. Last night he'd backed away from talking too much, taking to heart Luke's suggestion to let it work out. But few things looked the same in the cold light of morning, and suddenly the unstable ground he'd stepped right into felt even more unsound. It'd been important that he make things clear but, just like always, he'd left it too late. Chewie's reproach was already ringing in his ears. 

But maybe there was still time to salvage something if he hurried. Han flung himself out of bed and threw on the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, picking them up from the floor. His shirt, still partly fastened, delayed him. Impatiently, he twisted himself into it then shoved his feet into his boots and bolted from the apartment. 

The hangar bay was busy, even at this time. Pilots and mechanics worked shifts to keep up with the workload, so there was never a lull in activity. He spotted Artoo first, trundling up the ramp of the Chandrilan cruiser Mon Mothma had chartered to bring Senator Danu to Arudin. Now it looked like Danu was using it to go to Polis Massa.

Han made for the ship and caught a glimpse of movement inside. His own approach had not gone unnoticed because moments later Senator Danu appeared at the top of the ramp. 

"General Solo, isn't it?" the senator asked, a clear note of curiosity in his voice.

"Er, yeah." Belatedly, Han ran his fingers through his hair, uncomfortably aware of the contrast between himself, disheveled and unshaven, and the Senator in his immaculate robes. "Sorry to interrupt. Is Luke with you?"

"He's in the cockpit getting the ship ready. I suggested we take a pilot, but he wants to fly the ship himself."

"He likes flying," Han said, rather pointlessly. "Can I have a word with him?"

"Certainly. I'll go and tell him. It's good to meet you, by the way."

"Oh, yeah... you too."

The senator headed back into the ship and a minute later Luke appeared in the hatchway. If Han had only had two hours sleep, Luke had certainly had a great deal less because he'd been back to his own apartment to shower and change. Dressed in his more formal Jedi clothes, he looked considerably more presentable than Han, despite the dark smudges of tiredness beneath his eyes. 

As well as the surprise on Luke's face there was perceptible happiness in his eyes, and that was enough to hold Han to his purpose. 

"There's... somethin' I wanted to say. I meant to say it before, but I didn't get a chance, you know, before you left."

Luke didn't reply straight away but moved down the ramp towards Han, his eyes searching Han's face. As he neared Han, he smiled. It was just a small curve of his lips – a subtle, private smile – but one that reached out to enfold Han with optimism.

"What?" he asked quietly.

But the words Han had rehearsed as he'd run down to the hangar had vanished from his mind and he stood there for several seconds, unable to think of what to say. "Just... come back," he muttered eventually.

Luke nodded. "I will."

Han stared at him, aware that his chance was slipping by and that very shortly, Luke would have to turn and go back up the ramp.

It was a very public place, and all around them were pilots heading for their ships or going off-shift. It took Han two strides to reach Luke, his hands moving up to frame Luke's face. He kissed Luke hard on the lips then released him just as suddenly.

"I'll be waiting." He held Luke's gaze for a few moments longer, both of them fully aware of what Han had done. Luke's eyes were full of questions, but there was no opportunity for him to ask them now.

Instead, Luke simply touched Han's cheek before he turned and made his way back up the ramp.

 

Han walked back slowly through the hangar, knowing the curious gaze of onlookers followed his progress. He'd have to go straight to Leia and explain what had happened before the gossip reached her in other ways. It wouldn't take long. Han estimated the entire base would know by the end of the morning that he'd kissed Luke Skywalker in the cruiser hangar. 

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how he felt about having made such a visible declaration of his feelings. On the one hand, he felt a kind of reckless elation building up inside him. The kind that made him want to shout about it from the rooftops and broadcast it all over the Holonet. 

But on the other hand he felt a creeping anxiety that maybe he'd gone too far. Luke was a very private person, and Han had forced him to acknowledge feelings that Luke wouldn't have shown in public until they'd sorted out all the complications that surrounded them. For a start, there was the issue of Leia and the additional guilt Luke would now be feeling. Yet Han still didn't believe that was the biggest obstacle they faced.

And it certainly hadn't been Han's intention to thrust their relationship – if it could be called that – right into the public eye without so much as discussing the matter with Luke first. But even if Han had broached the subject with Luke last night as he'd intended, he had a suspicion that Luke would've urged more caution, wanting to set things straight in his own mind first. Chewie, for one, wouldn't have agreed with that, and Han had to admit he thought the Wookiee was right in this respect. 

Luke already lived under the burden of too much secrecy, and things had been like that for a long while. He'd kept the true horrors of Cloud City from all of them until Endor. And it'd taken them some time to discover exactly what had transpired in the Emperor's throne room. Han wondered if there was still more that Luke hadn't yet divulged about that long day. And Luke had already hinted at the pressure he felt in keeping his relationship to Vader concealed. 

If what was between them was one less thing to keep under cover, it seemed like a good thing to Han. He just hoped that Luke would understand his purpose in doing what he'd done, and that his actions wouldn't have the opposite effect to those he'd intended.

As he stood with his hand hovering over the intercom button on Leia's office door, he felt his euphoria begin to ebb away. The insecure side of him was beginning to take hold again, warning him that he'd acted too rashly in not considering the full implications for everyone involved. He took a deep breath and pressed his finger to the buzzer.

Leia stood back silently to let Han in.

"I know it's early, but I kinda thought you'd be here. Hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, it's fine," Leia said. Her manner was indefinable. There was warmth, but set against it was a slight detachment that was probably self-defensive. But on top of that she seemed unusually edgy and distant, as though her mind was on something else entirely.

"You okay?" Han asked.

Leia shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know how I feel about anything any more."

"I'm sorry about everything." The words felt shallow, given that Han was about to make things even worse, but they were all he could come up with. And he hadn't yet worked out how best to raise the subject of Luke.

"It's not you. At least, not directly."

"What's happened?"

"I've had my eyes opened a bit, that's all, and I don't really know how I feel about it."

Han frowned. "You mean about me, and the way I've behaved?"

"No – I already said it wasn't you." Leia looked at him properly, as though noticing his appearance for the first time. "You've come here to tell me something, haven't you?"

"I... yes," Han admitted. "And I'm sorry, 'cause I've been an asshole. Things are gonna get awkward."

Leia studied Han's face for a few moments. "It's about you and Luke, isn't it?"

Han gave a short nod of acknowledgement. A verbal answer didn't seem necessary.

Leia didn't say anything either. She walked across to the window and stood there in silence for a while, her back to Han. "I know he loves you," she said eventually, without turning away from the window.

"Did–?"

"No, he didn't tell me. He doesn't need to, and I've always known. If I'd been more like him I'd have stepped aside before."

"Don't do this Leia," Han protested. "You're the least to blame of any of us. It's you who's gotten hurt."

Leia shook her head, and turned back to face Han. "I'm worried that it's you who'll end up getting the most hurt of all."

Han stared at her. "What d'you mean?"

"It's too late to tell you not to get involved isn't it? He's right under your skin."

"You think he's gonna leave?"

Leia didn't answer directly. "I understand his dilemma. Before, I just sympathized with it. But now I know."

"I don't follow you."

"I didn't really see it before. Just knew that he was going through a lot of soul-searching, trying to live up to what Yoda seemed to expect. But now I know _why_ he feels that way."

"I still don't get you."

"I've felt it too. The way it starts to take you over. It's easy to see how it could dominate you. And it feels good too. That's why it's so dangerous."

"What're you talking about? The Force?"

"It was the anger. It gave me something to focus on and made me so much stronger. But it's frightening. It felt like I couldn't stop. I didn't _want_ to stop. I wanted to let it build up and up and up inside me." 

Leia paced the room, her obvious agitation increasing alongside Han's bemusement. Leia had always taken much the same view he'd taken when they'd both discussed this with Luke. Now she was sounding very much like Luke. At least, Luke in the early days after Endor, when the physical and mental aftereffects of Palpatine's assault had really begun to sink in.

"And you know what this was from?" Leia continued. "You. I was angry with you. Over the whole stupid mess."

"You've a right to be angry," Han said, dismayed at where this was leading.

Leia carried on as though Han hadn't spoken, her words tumbling out quickly in one long torrent. "It's about attachments, Han. Something we're not supposed to have. We're supposed to bury our feelings deep. No anger, no fear, no jealousy, no grief, no passion, no _nothing_. A life of total and complete _nothingness_. But no, that's not it either is it? I mean a life of selfless dedication to galactic service. Content to return to our empty beds at night, secure in the knowledge that we're keeping the darkness at bay."

The bitterness in Leia's voice twisted at Han's heart. "You already lead a selfless life," he argued. "You've devoted your whole life to keeping the Alliance going. You nearly died for it! How much more could you do?" 

Han wondered if Leia had even heard him. She continued to walk up and down, more troubled than Han had seen her in months.

"Just imagine how the thought of such a strong attachment to you might seem to Luke. If things went wrong or if you got killed..."

Luke had hinted at these exact same fears to Han only last night, trying to bring the conversation round to that subject, but Han had refused to go there. But the thing that struck Han the most was the way Leia's worries recalled those voiced by Luke just a few days ago. Leia had arrived at her anger by herself. It didn't matter that she had just cause to be angry. The point was, nobody had tricked her, or abused her, or manipulated her into feeling it. _Myself. I can do that to myself_ , Luke had said.

It felt like something heavy had settled in the pit of his stomach, and all his instincts railed against the obvious inference in Leia's words. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Okay – so you're sayin' you got angry. You saw where that anger was leading and part of you wanted to go there. But then you pulled out of it. You stopped before it got a hold of you."

"But part of me didn't want to stop. Part of me wanted to let it take over."

"The part of you that _didn't_ want that won," Han insisted. "I've said this to Luke hundreds of times. You're both too strong for that."

Leia nodded slowly. "You're right. At least you're right about Luke's strength. I'm not so sure about my own. But there's another question that needs to be asked."

"Go on."

"Which decision requires more strength of mind – to stay because you want to, even though you think it's the wrong choice to make, or to leave, even though it breaks your heart?"

"It shouldn't be so... extreme."

It was the wrong word to use when talking about Luke. Han knew it as soon as he'd said it, but it was one extreme he couldn't reconcile himself with. 

"I keep wondering," Leia said, "is it always going to be there in the back of my mind? Do I have to spend my whole life being watchful?"

Han shook his head. "I don't know. But if it's in the back of your mind that you made the choice to step back, then that's always gonna be with you too."

"Sometimes I wish things were easier. I thought I could cope with anything, but this... scares me."

"Maybe that's a good thing. If you weren't scared, it'd mean you didn't recognize the danger."

Leia's comlink beeped and she looked at it distractedly, but otherwise ignored it.

"You came to tell me about you and Luke and instead of being happy for you, I more or less tell you there might not be a hope in hell." 

"I didn't come expecting you to be happy for me. I don't deserve that." Han rubbed a hand over his chin, feeling the rough stubble there. "I kinda thought, we're playin' around with feelings here and there's too much hidden away all the time. You said to me before that we need to be honest about things, and I wanted to do that. I guess... I just wanted to be more open about it even though it's gonna be hard on you and Luke."

Leia stayed silent, listening to him, so Han carried on. "I went and did something, and you've gotta know... people will be saying things."

Leia gave a short, dry laugh. "People always say things. You think I care about that? Someday soon, when the truth about Vader breaks, they'll really have something to talk about won't they?"


	15. Chapter 15

Three days after leaving Arudin, Luke brought the Chandrilan cruiser down in the desolate mining colony of Polis Massa. He studied the place through the cockpit window. They'd arrived at the asteroid's only landing pad – a flat, gray expanse of rock only marginally distinguishable from the rest of the asteroid by its smoother surface. A transparisteel tunnel led from the bay into the center of Polis Massa's main settlement, and Luke watched as a small group of the unfamiliar inhabitants maneuvered and activated a portable airlock between the cruiser and the tunnel. 

There was no sunlight here, no natural oxygen, and no breeze to disturb the overwhelming atmosphere of isolation.

Luke wondered, not for the first time, about his private reasons for wanting to travel with the Senator. Chasing after fragments of the past, which might have no bearing on his future, when there were more urgent problems to be dealt with. It felt like a delaying tactic – an excuse for further avoidance of the decisions he knew he needed to make.

He stood up, fatigue dulling his senses and tightening every muscle. It had been a long flight and he'd had little chance to catch up with much sleep. The Senator had wanted to talk, and Luke, keen to do the same, had struggled to keep going for that very reason. Danu was well-informed considering he'd spent close on two decades in exile, but his knowledge of recent galactic events had huge gaps. It was those he'd wanted to redress, and Luke was a convenient source of information, despite the fact that Luke knew only a little of the Alliance's behind-the-scenes history. He was still relatively new to it himself.

The frustrating thing was that Danu had seemed reluctant to discuss the Jedi, which was surprising for someone who'd been such a close ally of the old Council. Nor had Danu volunteered anything about his father, or the woman Danu had intimated might possibly be his mother. It was as though Danu was waiting for the right moment or a more convenient situation. Luke wondered if their arrival here might prompt Danu to open up about the past a little more. 

He could understand the Senator's unwillingness to delve deeply into difficult subjects during the flight. Travel preoccupations and weariness combined were not the ideal circumstances in which to discuss potentially problematic issues.

But none of these personal reservations altered the fact that Mon Mothma and the Senator had asked Luke to undertake the visit in an 'official' capacity. It was an assignment, the same as any other, and he had to take it seriously. And if the Polis Massans had once offered their friendship to the Jedi of the past, then maybe he might find some point of connection to the place. 

He still felt strange about the whole visit. It seemed almost fraudulent, as though he was simply borrowing a title he wasn't sure he should lay claim to. He'd done it before, of course. Striding into Jabba's palace with an outward show of confidence and infallibility, calling himself a Jedi Knight and adopting all the customary trappings that went with the name. Like the cloak and the mind tricks. 

But that had been a deliberate act, designed to tip the balance in their favor by throwing in that unexpected element. But underneath his self-assured veneer had been a clutter of emotions that were a long way off being contained and controlled, and the sight of Leia chained to Jabba's dais had brought an additional flurry of anger. One that had led to a sudden, impatient move that had nearly cost him his life. How stupid it would've been to have died in the Rancor pit knowing that the recklessness Yoda had criticized him for had put him there.

Yoda had told him he'd become a true Jedi only when he'd confronted his father again. And it _had_ felt right when he'd thrown his lightsaber aside and rejected everything Palpatine had lined up for him. He'd felt a genuine sense of belonging with the term 'Jedi', and his realization that he'd conquered all of his anger and hatred had given him that elusive sense of peace. It had lasted until the return of the doubts that he found so hard to shake off. 

This was almost the first time he'd faced the confusion about his role head on. He'd been on plenty of assignments since Endor, but his Jedi side had fitted easily alongside his Rogue Squadron activities and, thanks to Wedge agreeing to joint command, he'd easily made room for both. But usually he was either fighting, or taken along for show. When he'd joined Han and Leia in numerous visits to friendly worlds, confronted by cheering crowds, he'd never felt quite this same feeling of uncertainty as he was feeling now. Then, he'd still been looked on as a Jedi, but more as an object of curiosity and he hadn't had to actually _do_ anything. Now he had to fulfill the expectations of others who were possibly familiar with the Jedi of the past. 

But this wasn't the right time to consider this – Senator Danu was waiting for him, as would be the welcoming committee of Polis Massans somewhere deep inside the settlement. He strapped his weapons belt around his hips and flung his cloak over his shoulders. At least he knew how to look the part.

"I've arranged a meeting with the Administrator first," Danu explained, smiling as Luke joined him at the ramp. "After that, we'll get some time to rest before they give us the grand tour. I understand the medical centers are as advanced as any you'd find in the Core, and hopefully we'll find something of interest to the Alliance."

If there _could_ be anything to find here, Luke thought. It was a long way from anywhere. But then, so was Tatooine, and some quirk of fate had found _him_ there. And _he'd_ found Han.

"Will they let us see much of their research?" he asked.

Danu shrugged. "I don't know. They do a lot of other stuff here though, besides the clone-cell procedures."

"The research into the past?"

"I believe it's very important to them."

Danu gave a brief nod to the assembled group of Polis Massans, who'd arrived to accompany them through the tunnel. He turned and glanced back up the ramp.

Luke followed his gaze. Artoo had come to a standstill just outside the hatch. He stood there, making soft sounds of protest.

"Come on, they're waiting for us," Luke pointed out to the droid. There was no positive response, and Artoo made no move forwards. He beeped quietly, sounding distressed.

"I know it's strange, but you've been to stranger places," Luke reasoned. "And there are no monsters here. At least, none that I know of."

Artoo reluctantly followed Luke at a distance, making it clear that venturing off the ship was a bad idea in his opinion. It was also obvious that the droid was equally loathe to let Luke out of his sight.

"Your droid's a strange one," Danu said, with some amusement.

Luke laughed. "Since meeting up with me he's had to put up with quite a lot, so you can't really blame him." 

The Polis Massans led them to a low repulsorcar that sped them along the tunnel towards the brightly lit towers of the settlement.

The colony's Administrator greeted them with a swift dip of his head, and served them tiny glasses containing a thick, green liquid. The peculiar, syrupy concoction looked cloying and sweet, but was unexpectedly tart. It always amazed Luke that practically everywhere he visited conformed to similar welcoming rituals, yet they always felt unique and had never become repetitive.

As they sipped their drinks, exchanging the customary pleasantries, Luke sensed the Administrator studying him covertly. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. Many people Luke encountered had never seen a Jedi, and if they'd heard of them, they usually had an exaggerated or uninformed opinion as to what one actually was. In the past six months Luke had encountered hatred, awe, indifference, curiosity, reverence and fear in equal measure and had learned to read the subtle body language of many non-human species. From Administrator Que-raik he detected curiosity, but to a greater degree than usual.

"Have you been Administrator here long?" he asked.

"For just over twenty years," Que-raik answered. "My predecessor was here for 150 years, so I'm still something of a newcomer." 

"You must have seen some big changes though," Danu said.

Que-raik shrugged slightly. "We're a long way from the center of power. The Empire chose to ignore us, but it didn't make much difference to the way the colony was run. Our research continues regardless of who controls the galaxy – it's just more open now."

"The Alliance is interested in working with you. We have equipment and procedures that might be of use to you, and we're keen to learn from your technicians."

"You're referring to the advances in neural transmitters? Yes, our team here has long wished to confer with your surgical droids on that. As you most likely know, we've been conducting successful experiments in cell cloning for use in medical reconstruction. The combination of our two areas of expertise should lead to further advances." 

Que-raik turned to Luke. "Our focus is on the replacement of synthskin with living cloned skin. However, we haven't mastered the technique of true neural integration, without which our cloned skin has a far smaller capacity for sensation than synthskin."

Luke opted for a neutral response, unsure whether the Administrator was making some indirect, personal reference. "It sounds like working together might be the way forward then."

"I can show you our laboratories – I'm sure they'll be of interest to you. It's likely to be a few more years before we've perfected the technique on other species, so there's no guarantee that it will be of immediate benefit to you."

Luke nodded, aware that Danu was looking at him curiously. So it _had_ been a personal remark, and he wondered how the Administrator had known. He took a sip of his drink to calm the edginess the conversation had brought on. The last thing he'd expected on coming here was to be presented as some sort of medical exhibit, designed to demonstrate the success of neural integration. 

Danu cleared his throat and steered the conversation in a new direction. "I understand Polis Massa once had links to the old Jedi Council. Both Jedi Skywalker and myself are very interested in the details of that association."

Que-raik looked again at Luke. "It's been many years since we had a Jedi here and your presence is very welcome. The Jedi Council's connection to our world was primarily a historical one. There is evidence that the indigenous inhabitants of Polis Massa were Force-sensitives. The Council was collaborating with our archaeological teams, who've been piecing together the history of the Eellayin. I'll be arranging a visit for you after you've both had a chance to rest."

 

Que-raik had provided rooms for them in one of the towers that ringed the central hub of the settlement. They'd agreed to meet up again at midday, which gave Luke and Senator Danu several hours in which to catch up with sleep and adjust to the abrupt shift in time their flight had brought about. The Senator hesitated outside the door to Luke's room. 

"I'm sorry about before. I'm certain it wasn't Mon Mothma's intention to involve you in anything to do with their medical research. I didn't realize..."

"I know. Don't worry about it," Luke said. He held his hand up, letting the sleeve of his tunic slip back. The soft whirring of the circuits was barely audible over the constant hum of the air conditioners. "They can look at it if it'll help move things along. I guess the Polis Massans have much sharper hearing than we do."

"Probably," Danu agreed. "It'd be difficult to detect it any other way. But it's your choice. You've got enough to think about as it is. Get some sleep first in any case – after all, we've got their grand tour to look forward to."

Luke grinned at him. "It might not be as bad as all that."

"Maybe not," Danu smiled back.

***

Luke lay back on the bed, wondering why it was that whenever he got the chance to rest these days his mind always started to work overtime, making relaxation almost impossible. If he'd been back on Arudin he'd have gone running through the woods until ready to drop from sheer exhaustion. Here, there didn't seem to be anywhere to go, and wandering around the sanitized corridors of the colony didn't appeal. He closed his eyes, willing himself to wind down. 

He'd come here hoping for some form of enlightenment, thinking that the break from the Rogues and from Arudin would somehow point him in the right direction. But although it was far too soon to have discovered anything about Polis Massa, he now wondered just why he'd ever thought to find any answers here. Perhaps he'd expected some sense of recognition that he was connected to the place, in view of its past relationship with the Jedi. But whereas on Dagobah he'd been hit by a sudden sense of familiarity and the knowledge that _something_ was there, here he felt nothing. The asteroid struck him simply as a sterile lump of rock, inhabited in a totally artificial way by a race of people who must've become immune to the grayness and lifelessness of the place. But presumably there was more to it than these gleaming towers. Somewhere, the original inhabitants of the once-intact world had left their traces. Maybe in those ancient remains he might perceive a common bond. 

Luke turned over onto his side and reached for the chrono he'd put beside the bed. It was the middle of the night on Arudin. And three nights ago he'd been with Han. They'd barely slept at all, too wrapped up in each other to want even that form of separation. Luke wondered wryly just how many unspoken Jedi rules Yoda would consider he'd broken in that one night. Presumably all the ones to do with greed, lust, passion, impatience and lack of restraint. Not to mention misuse of his Jedi training... And if Han was here now, he'd break them all again, given the chance. 

He wondered if being unable to control his thoughts fell into the same category. It probably did – he'd been told to be mindful of them often enough, and right now, they seemed to be dominated by his memory of the way Han had touched him. Luke curled up with a short groan, because thinking like this certainly wasn't going to get him any sleep. Artoo trundled up to him, beeping softly.

"No, I'm fine," Luke said. "You power down for a while, and I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

The whole thing seemed crazy, because if he broke it down into those component emotions, what he felt for Han _could_ be made to sound completely wrong – from a Jedi point of view. But none of those so-called infractions summarized the whole thing adequately. They missed out everything that had to be classified as good. Like trust, support and friendship. They were all part of love too, and wasn't it love that Ben and Yoda had partly counted on? Or was it just his anger they'd wanted? 

It was difficult to say, because it'd been love for Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru that'd generated his anger over their deaths. Then the growing bond with Ben, whose sudden death had sustained that anger. And Ben had known how that would work. But both Ben and Yoda seemed to reject the idea of love when it clashed with their cause, both in their reactions to Luke's need to go to Bespin, and their refusal to accept that good still lay within Darth Vader. 

And of course, there were different types of love. The Jedi would've approved and appreciated a form of love free from physical desire. An unselfish type of dedication to the happiness of others, undemanding and stable. Ben had spent close on twenty years in the Jundland Wastes, solitary and steadfast, committing his life to watching over Luke from a distance. Had he been happy? There was no way of discovering that now, but if Ben had achieved the ability to free his mind and body from the ties of attachments, then maybe he'd been content. If such a situation presented itself to Luke, could he do as Ben had done? Probably – but he doubted he'd find happiness in it. It was all so difficult. _He_ was so difficult. So _damn_ difficult, as Han had said. 

And of course, now he'd allowed his thoughts to dwell on Han, it was inevitable that he'd end up reliving those few moments in the cruiser hangar before he'd left for Polis Massa. Three days later, and he still wasn't sure how to react. He knew why Han had done it, and he also knew that Han would've spent many hours since then worrying that Luke _wouldn't_ have understood his intentions. Over the course of the night they'd spent together, there'd been several occasions when Luke had sensed that Han wanted to say more than he had. But Han had held back, believing Luke wouldn't want any additional pressure. He'd been both right and wrong, and if that was contradictory then Luke felt it probably summed up everything about him these days.

The truth was, it wasn't a contradiction at all, because avoiding the issue had nothing to do with wanting and everything to do with keeping Yoda's teachings in mind. Controlling his emotions. The wanting part was the total opposite, and yes, he wanted that pressure from Han. Wanted to hear Han ask him to stay, to demand some commitment and exact promises from him. 

But... there was still Leia, and guilt, and loyalty. And fear of what might happen if something went wrong. How could he forget that clench of anxiety and edge of panic when he'd considered the possibility of failing to rescue Han from Tatooine? Or if the hibernation process had failed, or Han had been unable to shake off the sickness after he'd been released from the carbonite? There were just too many things to consider, and too many repercussions from any course of action he might take.

 _Clear your mind of questions,_ Yoda had said. And Yoda had repeatedly implied that he should know the right course to take, simply by taking control of his feelings. _You will know. When you are calm, at peace. Passive_. Luke drew on the Force, concentrating on shutting off each line of thought, one by one. He drew deep breaths, feeling the Force moving through him, soothing and harmonious. It brought no answers, but it did send him to sleep...

...

_A searing, terrifying heat that scorched the soles of his feet even through thick boots, and threatened to boil the blood in his veins._

_All around him, a rain of fire and white hot droplets that burned his clothing and stung his skin._

_And so much anger and pain._

_But hardest of all to bear was the overwhelming aura of betrayal that oozed from the smoldering river of lava, and shadowed him across every heat-warped inch of the walkways._

_The place was a living hell, but it had seen emotions and loss more powerful than anything nature could produce. And it held within it an echo of a cry, full of despair and grief..._

...

Luke sat up, unsure if that cry had come from his own lips or not. Breathing heavily, he ran a hand through hair that had stuck to his scalp with sweat. He flung himself off the bed, and hit the climate-control panel to allow cooler air into his room. The dream had been intense, leaving him disoriented and uneasy. Beside him, Artoo whirred comfortingly, accustomed to Luke's disrupted sleep patterns which often startled the droid out of his night-time hibernation.

Dreams like that had recurred with persistent regularity throughout his life, but the more in tune with the Force he became, the more vivid were the nightmares. What made them worse was the knowledge that somewhere, in amongst the tangled threads of surreal images, were hard truths. 

Things had been like that since he was a child. Aunt Beru had spent countless nights comforting him and sitting with him while he struggled to return to sleep, battling with images that bore little connection to his childhood preoccupations. Chided for having an overactive imagination, he wondered how often his Aunt and Uncle must have questioned their decision to protect him from the truth. Privately, they must have acknowledged the strangeness within him, and accepted that a young child, with no experience of anything beyond a simple farming existence, would never willingly have conjured up such visions.

That they'd known the full truth of what had happened to his father was obvious to him now. Their version of the past was expert and rehearsed, and went hand-in-hand with a vagueness that accompanied his every request for detail. Like his grandmother's death. Killed by the Sandpeople, but he knew no more than that. He'd put Uncle Owen's reluctance to talk about it down to grief, because Aunt Beru had told him that it'd left Owen's father broken and distraught. He'd stayed that way until he died. 

Thinking back on the past was doubly hard now, because it seemed to Luke that his family had brought only heartache and suffering to the Lars. Remarrying late in life, Cliegg Lars must've marveled at his new-found happiness, only to have had it brutally snatched away. Then there was Uncle Owen, who must've witnessed the final decline of his father whilst Luke's father was crushing underfoot all the freedoms of the galaxy. Only now could Luke begin to understand the full difficulties his Aunt and Uncle had faced in bringing him up. Having to fear every day for his safety, and to be continually vigilant in protecting him from the wider, shocking truth. 

Luke checked the time again and realized he only had another hour before he was due to meet up with Senator Danu again. He stumbled into the adjoining 'fresher and stood under the shower trying to wake himself up properly.

The cool water felt good, especially as part of his mind was still in the burning chaos of his dream. In it, he'd had a sense of Obi-Wan and his father. But who did the feeling of betrayal come from? With all that he'd been told, it should've come from Ben, but Luke was certain he'd felt it in equal measure from them both.


	16. Chapter 16

"You look tired."

"Just found it hard to sleep."

Senator Danu nodded, but looked unconvinced. "I hope that whatever's troubling you might get a little easier soon."

Luke threw the Senator a quick smile. "I don't think the Jedi way of life is supposed to be easy." 

He'd intended the remark to be humorous, aimed at deflecting Danu's concern. From the small frown Danu now wore, it was obvious it'd had the opposite effect.

"For what it's worth, in my opinion the Jedi Order made things harder for themselves than they needed to be."

Luke glanced at him curiously. "They were living through some very difficult times. I'm sure they felt they had to be vigilant."

"Vigilant, yes," Danu agreed. "But too narrow a perspective can cause weakness, even though its intention is to strengthen."

They'd reached one of the many pick-up points for the repulsorcars that traversed the spiraling corridors of the settlement. 

"You thought the Jedi outlook was too narrow?" Luke asked.

"Don't misunderstand me. I had huge respect for the Jedi. I trusted and believed in what they were doing, just as the members of the Order believed in it. But something went wrong, and questions have to be asked don't they? I'm certain that you've been asking them yourself."

This went deeply into personal issues, and Luke wasn't sure he wanted to address those with Danu yet, given that they'd only known each other for a few days. But in conflict with his reluctance to confide in Danu was Luke's belief that Danu had asked him here for a reason. One that Danu had yet to disclose. And maybe he needed to give openness in order to receive it. 

"It's all I ever do," he admitted. "Without any specific knowledge of anything, the right way isn't that obvious to me."

They climbed aboard a repulsorcar after it had shuddered to a halt beside them, and waited whilst Artoo maneuvered himself up the droid ramp.

"You doubt yourself?" Danu asked.

"Wouldn't you, if you had my family history?"

"In view of that, I'd say that it gives you even more reason for recognizing your strengths. And even though we've only just met, your reputation goes before you."

Luke rolled his eyes at that. "I've been called everything under the suns, mostly by people who've never even seen me."

Danu smiled. "I'm sure. But politicians are skilled in the art of reading between the lines. They have to be – few politicians willingly come out with the blunt truth. I don't know your full story of course, but even working through the exaggeration and misinformation I've heard, certain things that stood out about you have been confirmed by meeting you."

"What type of things?"

"Well, for one, I would say you stick by what you believe in, regardless of circumstances and danger."

Luke gave a quiet laugh. "Reckless, you mean?" 

"Not at all. I'd describe it as committed. In any case, what you call recklessness I'd probably call determination. As for your inclination to doubt yourself, I suspect it's not shared by those who know you well."

"Some of the things I did went against what my Jedi teachers told me to do."

"But presumably your own instincts guided you, and they're not to be dismissed lightly."

"No – but it depends on what's behind the instincts." 

"Very true," Danu conceded. "But in my opinion you're only strengthening the case in your own favor because I doubt you've been motivated by anything that could be considered bad."

"It's points of view again, though, isn't it? What I might think is a good thing, might be the beginning of something else in Yoda's opinion, and the Council must've set up their Code for a very good reason."

"Oh – that I'm _not_ so sure about."

"You said the Code was vitally important to them."

"It was – but only because they'd been taught from childhood to believe in it. Once something's been set in place it sometimes becomes immovable – partly through the fear of what might happen if it _did_ move."

Danu fell silent for a moment, glancing out of the repulsorcar at the passing structures of the colony's market-place. When he looked back at Luke, his face wore a trace of indecision, which convinced Luke that deeper reasons for the visit ran beneath their surface assignment.

"Tell me something Luke. Did your Jedi mentors talk to you about the prophecy?"

Luke frowned. "What prophecy?"

"Really, there will be others who will know better than I–"

The noise of the vehicle coming to a halt cut short Danu's explanation. They'd arrived once more in the administrative hub. Que-raik gave them a small bow of greeting in traditional Polis Massan fashion and guided them towards a low, private transport. 

Danu gave Luke a swift smile of apology, implying that their conversation would best be left for a more suitable time.

"I'm sure you must both be hungry," Que-raik stated. "I have a table arranged in a nearby dining facility. We'll eat first, and then we can visit the research centers."

***

The clearance work was well underway in the Roqqini hangars, with teams working alternate shifts to keep the momentum going. Han had arrived just before dawn, his mood having turned restless and irritable the instant he'd woken up. 

He was there to check on progress, not to join in, but wandering aimlessly about, watching others perfectly capable of managing without him, did little to improve his frame of mind. 

Two members of the team were breaking up the old duracrete floor of an adjoining storage yard, the noise of the mechanical wrecking arms blocking out all other sound. A third breaker vehicle sat unused, and Han crossed over to it and swung himself into the cabin. He clamped a pair of ear-guards over his head and gripped the hand controls to maneuver the wrecking arm down to ground level. 

The recoil as the durasteel bar bit into the yard surface was satisfyingly powerful, sending shockwaves up his arms that traveled all the way though the rest of his body. He braced himself and moved the breaker forward, watching shattered fragments of duracrete fly up from the ground, sometimes hitting the armored screen that protected him from injury. It was just what he needed. The sheer hard work of controlling the depth of the wrecker demanded full concentration and the noise, even with the ear-guards, effectively drowned out any spare ability to think. 

He tossed a grin to the operators of the other breakers as he wove between them, no-one daring to take their eyes off the progress of their wrecking arms for more than a couple of seconds. 

That was why he didn't spot Chewbacca until the job was finished. The Wookiee was standing just far enough away to avoid the spray of lethal debris, but close enough for Han to recognize the expression on his friend's face. It was a cross between exasperation and knowingness, and Han glared at him from the cabin of the breaker. He couldn't even do a simple task these days without Chewie analyzing his motives and reading some deeper meaning into Han's wish to remain busy.

He clambered down, still feeling the buzz of adrenalin and phantom vibration from the hammering action of the machine. He raised a hand to the other breaker drivers and moved across to Chewie. 

The Wookiee's opening remark was half-serious and half-amused. If its intention had been to provoke Han into breaking the silence he'd maintained over Luke's departure, it succeeded in spite of his reluctance to talk about it.

"It's an assignment," he snapped back. "Jedi stuff. Since when did he want me hangin' onto his cloak every time he goes off somewhere? Anyway, I've already told you – he wants some time to think. He's not gonna get that if I was there hassling him and interfering, is he?"

Chewie's reply threatened to turn into a long lecture over the differences between interference and support, and how Han might've found it easier to demonstrate his faith in Luke by going with him rather than moping around here counting the hours until Luke got back. Han cut him short with an impatient shake of his head.

"Luke likes a lot of space. He wants to work things out in his own time. If I'd gone too, it'd just be an extra thing to worry about."

As usual, Chewbacca refused to accept his answer as the final word on anything, reverting to a now standard accusation that Han ought to have thought twice before standing back and letting Luke fly off to the back of beyond with his mind still full of indecision and guilt. 

"What did you expect me to do?" he growled. "Chain him to my bed and tell him he's not going? It's _his_ life."

The problem was, once Chewie got on the trail of something, he never gave up. And the goddamn Wookiee always seemed to know him better than he knew himself. But whatever Chewie said, Han didn't _need_ to prove his faith in Luke because Luke already knew it was there. Trying to convince Chewie of that was another matter, so he decided on a different approach.

"Anyway, I've already taken your advice once, and now the whole damn base is talkin' about nothing else."

Chewbacca was serenely unperturbed, informing Han that if he ever paid attention to what went on around him, he'd discover that most people weren't very surprised over what had happened.

"Well, good for them," Han said acidly. "Glad I turned out to be so predictable." 

Chewbacca was already walking back towards the temporary refreshment center they'd set up to keep the clearance teams motivated. It wasn't a bad idea – Han could use a mug of strong caf just to deal with the Wookiee's convoluted reasoning. He was almost as impossible to argue with as Luke...

Han followed behind, picking up every other grunt that Chewie made, only half-listening in any case. But then Chewie came out with something that made Han stop dead in his tracks.

"What did you say? He's not like other Jedi?" Han asked, irritated. "What're you talkin' about? You don't _know_ any other Jedi!" Chewbacca didn't stop walking, and Han only just caught the tail end of his reply. He hurried after him.

"During the Clone Wars? You never told me that!" Han called out. "This had better not be another tall story of yours!"

Chewbacca stopped and waited for Han to catch up. He noted, in a low rumble, that he'd never told Han because Han had never asked.

"There's such a thing as volunteering information y'know. It's called makin' conversation."

Chewie chortled, and aimed himself back in the direction of the refreshments. Han could smell the freshly-brewed caf and took a deep breath in. 

"I suppose you're gonna tell me next that Darth Vader was a close friend of yours," he muttered.

Han didn't get a reply until Chewie had supplied himself with a large flask of the rancid-looking pond-water he'd got so fond of, and had settled a steaming mug of bitter caf in front of Han. Han leaned into it, letting the sharp aroma assault his senses. It was too hot to drink it yet. He wrapped his hands around the mug, noticing how the heat from the vessel stung his newly-acquired blisters. He had the wrecking arm to thank for those.

Chewbacca had started up again – this time delivering some endless history lesson in a deep, throaty growl. Han let his attention slide, catching odd words and phrases every now and again. _Jedi... Kashyyyk... Clones... Trade Federation's droids... Yoda..._

Han took his hands away from his mug and stared at Chewbacca in disbelief. "Now I know you've really lost it. You're tellin' me you knew Yoda and this is the first time you've thought to mention it?"

He took his first, scalding sip of the caf, listening with more than a degree of skepticism to the tale of Yoda's escape from Kashyyyk, and how he was one of the few Jedi from that time to escape with their lives.

"Well he's dead now," Han said flatly. "You didn't think Luke might've liked to know this?"

The caf was still too hot but Han gulped it back anyway. He wondered if the entire Wookiee species had logic as warped as Chewie's, or if Han had just ended up with the one individual who thought withholding a piece of information was fine on the grounds that a person might be better off knowing as little as possible. Although Han had to admit that Chewie's reasons for coming to that conclusion weren't actually that ridiculous. Maybe the Jedi _had_ failed because they'd become too fixed in their ways. Luke was different because he saw things from every angle and didn't categorize everything so rigidly that it left no room for free thought. But whereas Chewie thought that Luke being able to draw on emotions from both sides was a good thing, Han knew that Luke himself wasn't so sure. Just telling him that was never going to work though.

"He doesn't see it like that," Han explained. "He thinks he should be able to move past those emotions you're talkin' about. Thinks he should be more passive."

That met with a short, rough guffaw from Chewbacca. He followed it up with a comment that the prospect of a passive Luke was one of the most unlikely things he'd heard that morning, not to mention that fact that it'd be a very bad idea.

"Yeah, well I've told him that a thousand times. He just makes his own mind up about things."

Han downed the remainder of his caf, right down to the gritty sediment that had collected in the bottom of his mug. He frowned thoughtfully. Although he didn't like to admit that Chewie had a point, maybe he _had_ gone about this in the wrong way. And who knew what crazy conclusions Luke might come to left to his own devices?

It wouldn't even be that difficult to arrange. He hadn't taken any real leave since arriving on Arudin, and his current role of supervising the clearance project was a pretty redundant one. The teams could manage perfectly well by themselves, and in any case Chewie would still be around if any problems turned up.

Luke had said it'd take three days to reach Polis Massa. But the Chandrilan cruiser was a slow ship, designed for short hyperspace hops and for dawdling about in sub-space. The Falcon had twice the cruiser's speed, and Han reckoned he could bypass a couple of the safety jumps Luke would've felt compelled to make to keep the Senator clear of Imperial hang-outs. In view of that, he could probably make the Subterrel Sector in just over a day.

***

The covered transport wound its way through the corridors of Polis Massa's colony, and then through the air-locked tunnels that dived down below the asteroid's surface. The Eellayin had once lived far beneath the ground in a self-contained warren of caverns.

Luke studied the rock walls as they passed along. The ancient inhabitants had covered the surface with intricate carvings showing complex and richly detailed scenes. Most depicted the Eellayin in various guises. But although the artists had painstakingly finished and perfected their work, the carvings came across as strangely emotionless to Luke. Looking at them gave him a peculiar feeling of emptiness, which he was certain the sculptors couldn't have intended. He wondered how the Polis Massans felt about them.

The transport slowed and came to a standstill beside a low workshop made from preformed plascrete blocks. 

"The air is safe to breathe here," Que-raik explained. "In all but the furthest caverns, the oxygen levels are equal to those in the settlement above. Elsewhere, the air is slightly thinner, but perfectly acceptable."

The cavern they were in was large, encircled on all sides by niches containing further carved panels. The high arched roof dispelled feelings of claustrophobia, but couldn't rid Luke of the closed-in impression that assailed him. He thought it must stem from the sense of isolation the place had. It made him long for sun, and genuine light, and – unusually for him – crowded, bustling streets. Presumably it must've been different when the Eellayin occupied the caverns. Or had they deliberately cultivated the aura of detachment that seemed to ooze from the rock itself? 

He glanced at Danu, but the Senator seemed unaffected by the atmosphere, gazing at their surroundings with appreciation. Luke drew his cloak more closely around him, attempting to ward off a chill that had little to do with the temperature of the caverns. If anything, it was almost too warm down here.

"I'll introduce you to Perek-tain. She's looking after our archaeology teams and can tell you more about the history of the place than I can," Que-raik said.

The Administrator led them inside the workshop. At the far end, a stooped and frail-looking female was conducting a patchy, static-riddled transmission. She signaled to them to wait.

Luke and Danu moved across to a series of low stone benches where the researchers had laid out numerous artifacts. It was the usual detritus of life. Broken tools, fragments of kitchen ware, drinking vessels and pieces of decaying furniture. There seemed very little to show for thousands of years of history, but Luke imagined this was only a small representation of what they'd found.

Perek-tain ended her communication and stood up, making a small grunt of exertion as she did so. She gave the customary bow of her head, which Luke and Danu returned.

"Welcome to you both. It's an honor to have visitors from the Alliance."

"It's an honor to be here," Danu said. "We feel privileged that you've allowed us to see your work because I understand you wish for privacy until the research is completed."

Perek-tain nodded. "You'd be surprised what a cut-throat business this is. You wouldn't expect academic research to engender such intense feelings of rivalry, but sadly it does."

"Politics is much the same," Danu said dryly.

Perek-tain gave a small laugh. "That I can imagine." She turned to Luke. "I'm overjoyed that you've been able to make it out to us. I've always believed this place needed a Jedi to make it complete once more. I hope you'll wish to follow our research as closely as your predecessors did."

Luke smiled at her. "I only discovered their interest a few days ago. It's all very new to me, but I'd like to know more."

"Then let me show you."

Perek-tain led the way out of the hut towards the back of the cavern. Her age was indeterminable, but her slow and slightly labored gait seemed to confirm Luke's initial impression that she was elderly. She had about her an air of intense enthusiasm, which Luke wished he could at least partly match. Far from feeling a connection to the caverns, he felt out-of-place and uneasy, but putting his finger on _why_ he felt that way was proving difficult.

The archaeologist took her time and led them through a series of caves, stopping in each to give them a brief description. In every cavern the Polis Massans had restored a number of objects. There were large stone bowls, inlaid chalices and stone blocks inscribed with strange, unfamiliar lettering. And everywhere there were more of the intricately carved scenes. Yet the more Luke looked around him, the more he failed to find the heart of the people who'd lived here. But they'd been Force-sensitives, their minds aligned to the same energy-field that ran through his own blood. There should have been a feeling of kinship instead of the increasing sense of alienation. It occurred to Luke that maybe the distance in time was simply too great and the Eellayin too long vanished for him to discern anything of their presence.

The set-up everywhere seemed geared towards ceremonial display, and there was little evidence for a more mundane existence. Where were the sculptures depicting everyday scenes of life instead of grave and austere forms of ritual? Where were the children's objects, or the small collections of mementos that almost every sentient being collected over the years? Luke was far from acquisitive, but even he had certain things he'd accumulated through time. Ordinarily, he'd have understood their absence to imply that the Eellayin had taken their possessions with them when they left, but Perek-tain had disabused them of this notion. 

"There is no evidence that the Eellayin traveled beyond the confines of their world," she'd explained. "We believe they hadn't wanted to dilute their unusual lifestyle by assimilating influences from outside."

Yet Jedi had visited here, long before their friendship with the Polis Massans. As Luke studied the carved panels close up he saw other beings depicted, including humans. Shown in formal poses these were undoubtedly Jedi, their lightsabers held high, faces tranquil and calm. Looking at them, Luke felt again that peculiar sensation of not belonging. Yet surely this was what he'd come here for? To absorb these details of Jedi history and to somehow make them his own. But it was as though he was watching from a distance – an interested observer, but one with no emotional investment in this carefully recorded archive.

He moved across to another wall. Here, the peaceful nature of the Jedi had gone, replaced with another mood entirely. The panel showed a battle, with Jedi of all species wielding their lightsabers against vast armies of angular creatures. Peering more closely at the Jedi's opponents he noticed the manufactured joints and power packs of droids. He knew nothing of Eellayin history, but battles with such large numbers of droids must've been extremely unusual in their time.

"Battle droids," Perek-tain explained, noting Luke's scrutiny. "The carving depicts scenes from the Clone Wars."

Luke turned to her in bemusement. "How can it? You said the Eellayin disappeared thousands of years ago. Have these been done by your own people?"

Perek-tain shook her head, her demeanor one of suppressed excitement. "No, the Eellayin created them. There are many scenes like this throughout the caverns, from all periods of history."

"But..."

"They were Force-sensitives, and they used their abilities in a particular way. They could see fragments of the future."

Luke stared at her. "They carved their visions?"

"Yes."

Luke said nothing for a few moments. He looked back at the wall panel, his eyes tracing the sharp lines and uniform shape of the odd-looking droids. "Has everything they predicted happened?" 

Perek-tain gave a small shrug. "Many things have – but there are other scenes showing events we know nothing of. Who's to say if they're of the future, or from the distant past? After all, the future is still to come."

Luke nodded slowly, beginning to understand the fascination the ancient civilization had for the Jedi. But the future was always in motion, Yoda had said. How could the Eellayin have been so certain that what they'd seen was going to happen? But then, Luke had been certain on Dagobah. He'd known, without a doubt, that Han and Leia were going to suffer.

So had the Jedi wanted to study the Eellayin in order to learn their secrets? To gain some control over their fragmented visions? To wish to face a known future involved a particular type of strength, but it also had strong elements of danger. To know in advance what was about to happen could've set in motion the wish to avert those events, but also the desire to exploit them for more malign reasons. It was intriguing, but something about the whole concept felt off to Luke. Just like his uneasiness, it was impossible to define exactly where that feeling came from. 

"Is it okay to look further?" he asked, hoping for some time to wander about by himself and maybe try to pin down just why he felt such a strong aversion to the Eellayin.

"Of course," Perek-tain replied. "There are some things the Administrator and I need to discuss, so we'll leave you to yourselves for a short while. All the caverns link together in a long chain, so there's no possibility of getting lost."

Part fascinated and part repelled, Luke wandered slowly around the caves studying all the wall carvings closely. He saw nothing that meant anything to him historically, although depictions of Jedi appeared frequently. He'd left Senator Danu in one of the larger caves busily examining scenes that related to Kuatian culture, and the lack of company increased the air of strangeness the underground world possessed. 

The further Luke went along the chain of caves, the more rugged and uneven the walkways became. He found himself breathing more rapidly, compensating for the reduced level of oxygen, but despite the discomfort, something made him want to explore as far as possible. The irregular path finally gave way to rough bedrock, slippery from the long-ago passage of feet. He'd reached the end of the chain, and there was nothing else to do but turn back and repeat his steps. 

He wasn't sure why he didn't leave right away. The poor air quality was making him dizzy, and the light from the glowlamps barely reached the end of the path. Instead, he walked forward and placed his hand on the rock face in front of him. It was cold and damp, although there was no trace of moisture to be seen anywhere in the cave complex. A swirl of clammy air wafted across his hand and he frowned, looking down. 

The entrance was almost invisible in the dim light, masked as it was by a natural column of rock that threw a deep shadow across the arch. But there was no mistaking what it was. There was yet another cave to explore.

Luke had to duck his head down under the low archway to enter it. It was smaller than the others and felt considerably older. The uneasiness that had struck Luke on entering the caves was much more acute here, and the artificial warmth of the previous caverns was absent. Here, the atmosphere was dank and oppressive, and the stale, oxygen-deprived air made it much harder to breathe. He shivered, and moved to the walls in an attempt to study the carvings. They were equally as detailed as the previous ones, but were worn down and smoothed in places from countless touching hands. Because there was no light in the cavern itself, apart from that which filtered through from the preceding cave, making out the images was almost impossible. He spent some time peering at the panels through the gloom before unclipping his lightsaber. He ignited it, causing light to bounce back off the walls and to fill the cave with an iridescent green glow.

He held the lightsaber up to the walls, trying to make out the worn designs. The formal, restrained tone of the other sculptures was missing, replaced by a turbulence of emotion that cried out from the walls. The scenes were all of Jedi, but they bore no resemblance to the peaceful composure of the Jedi shown in the first caves. Here, brutal death was the dominant theme. Each portrayal showed a Jedi brandishing a lightsaber above a mutilated body. In contrast, the lightsabers still clasped in the severed hands of the slain Jedi were crushed and useless. But by far the most chilling aspect of the images was the expression on the faces of the victors. They revealed a cruel, gloating triumph that seemed to mock everything the Jedi were supposed to stand for. Bewildered, Luke passed from one carving to the next, looking for some hint of compassion or integrity, but finding neither. Panel after panel exuded anger and hate, leaving no room for redeeming characteristics of any kind. 

As well as the disturbing nature of the carvings, there seemed to be a symbolism in the cyclical layout of the panels. The date of the work felt irrelevant, because although the artists had created the depictions thousands of years ago, they came across as timeless, illustrating a rhythm of violence destined to repeat itself continually.

But when Luke reached the final panel he realized that he'd been wrong to visualize the carvings forming an unbroken circle. The last panel was the break, set apart from the first in the cycle not just by the arched entrance to the cave, but by a deliberate change in alignment. It was much lower down, and Luke had to crouch in front of it to see it clearly. 

The carving was worn even smoother than the others. Again, it depicted death, but this time the emotions it gave off were very different. A man stood above the crumpled body of his slain victim but his lightsaber, instead of ignited in his hands, lay at his feet. Rather than looking down upon the dead Jedi with triumph and satisfaction, the victor looked upwards, his expression both serene and joyfully radiant. The man had his hands outstretched, and the palm of each held an object which Luke didn't recognize. They were roughly hemispherical, but with toothed edges that suggested each one was a half that interlocked with the other to form a whole. A fine tracery of decoration, interspersed with inscribed lettering, covered the surface of each object. Luke held the blade of his lightsaber closer to the panel, but the alien script was indecipherable to him. 

He studied the face of the victorious Jedi again and followed the gaze the sculptor had created. It led up into the sky, where, worn and barely distinguishable from the surrounding stone, twin suns blazed down on the world below. 

And suddenly Luke understood, realization flooding his mind and the knowledge burning into him, as fierce and powerful as the suns of Tatooine. He felt light-headed with it, steadying himself as he stood up. He recalled extinguishing his lightsaber, but didn't remember making his way out of the cave. It was the combined voices of Senator Danu and Perek-tain that pulled him back into reality.

"What happened?" Danu's voice was edged with anxiety.

Perek-tain's tone was softer, but just as insistent. "The air is much thinner in that cave. I should've warned you."

Luke shook his head. "It's okay. It's not the air."

Perek-tain studied him carefully. "These caves were discovered over five hundred years ago by our people, but I've only been here two years. I'm growing old, and I wanted to fulfill a life-time's ambition – to try to understand the race that my species has such a fascination with. I took over the day-to-day running of the research from Tiriss-elain, my predecessor, and have gained considerable knowledge of the main caves. But that cave is still an enigma to me."

"You've been inside it though?" Luke asked.

Perek-tain nodded. "Of course. It's by far the oldest cave down here. We assume it had some special significance for the Eellayin because they never altered it. Most of the other caverns were rebuilt over the centuries, and new sculptures were created over the top of earlier ones. But it was always Tiriss-elain's specialty – almost a private obsession. I've been happy to leave it that way. Somehow being in there makes me uncomfortable." 

She cleared her throat and made a small, apologetic sound, as though she thought her sentiments would appear strange. "I remember when I first saw the carvings – I was sure they couldn't be Jedi, because I'd always believed the Jedi stood only for good. But like everything, the Jedi changed. There must've been an earlier time when things were different."

"No," Luke said quietly. "Your instincts were right. There's only one Jedi shown in there."

"But the clothing? The lightsabers? And we know the Eellayin's links with the Jedi go back for thousands of years."

"Their links weren't with the Jedi. At least, not at first."

Perek-tain shook her head, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Those are Sith. The Eellayin studied the ways of the Sith. And the Sith wanted to control the future." 

Luke knew now that the panels depicted a succession of Sith masters and apprentices, their destinies a continual chain of betrayal and accession to power. There were thousands of years of Sith history shown in there, all coming to an end with one man. One apprentice who'd destroyed his master as he was destined to do, but whose motivation came from somewhere beyond the dark confines of Sith ideology.

The archaeologist was staring at Luke, visible shock etched across her face. "All the Jedi who visited... surely they weren't wanting to learn those ways too?"

Luke shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. Understand it maybe. But I think the Eellayin changed. I think they spent the rest of their time trying to atone for having practiced Sith ways. It explains a lot of what I've felt here."

"But the visions – you're suggesting that seeing the future is using the Dark Side?"

"The Jedi see visions of the future too. But they don't attempt to manipulate others with it." As Vader had done, sending the images of Han's torture to him on Dagobah.

Danu frowned. "You said there was one Jedi on the panels."

"Yes. On the final one."

"So that marks the end of the Eellayin links with the Sith?"

"It marks the end of the Sith. It shows the death of the last one."

Something like recognition flashed across the Senator's face, and Luke was suddenly reminded of their unfinished conversation. Danu looked as though he was about to say something further, but Perek-tain spoke again before he could do so. 

"Are you referring to Darth Vader's death?" she asked.

Luke shook his head again. "The Emperor's. Darth Vader was a Jedi. He's the Jedi on the final panel."

Polis Massan emotions were difficult to read, but Luke felt Perek-tain's astonishment ripple through the air. Alongside it, Senator Danu's excitement was unmistakable.

The Senator tuned to Perek-tain. "The Jedi who visited with your people – did they investigate that cave?"

"Oh yes, many times. Tiriss-elain always refers to it by the name the Jedi gave it. They called it the Cave of the Prophecy." 


	17. Chapter 17

Artoo, left behind in the plascrete hut, greeted Luke's return with a show of relief that was even more marked than usual. For Luke, it was just another curious incident to add to the strangeness of the day. He touched his hand to the droid's dome, and accepted the glass of water that Perek-tain pushed into his hand.

She still believed that the lack of oxygen in the far cave had affected him, and was set on making amends for her failure to warn him. In many ways, it was easier for Luke to concede that it _had_ been the air quality, combined with the atmosphere of the cavern, that'd caused his disorientation. Explaining the full truth to her was impossible.

He wished he could go somewhere by himself, to sit and think about what he'd seen. But there was the rest of the tour to go, and his input and presence were both expected and anticipated. Besides, there was still more he needed to discover.

He looked across at Perek-tain. She was giving instructions to a couple of her team members, both of whom kept stealing curious glances in his direction. The archaeologist seemed almost as stunned as Luke had been on discovering the nature of the carvings, but that in itself struck Luke as odd. Surely her predecessor, who'd studied the cave in detail, had known what the images depicted? Not to mention the Jedi who'd visited here over the years. What reason could they have had for withholding such a crucial aspect of Eellayin history?

And then there was Senator Danu. It can't have been coincidence that the Senator had mentioned the existence of a prophecy just hours before their visit to the cave, and it was clear that the name of the cave had meant something to him. He needed to speak to Danu privately, but finding an opportunity in their busy schedule was going to be tricky.

After the researchers had left, he re-joined Perek-tain. "Did Tiriss-elain explain why the Jedi called it the Cave of the Prophecy?"

Perek-tain shook her head. "Not to me. There was a mutual understanding between us that I would take over the day-to-day running of the excavations, but she would continue with the research on that cave. We didn't discuss it much."

"So you don't know what the prophecy was about?"

She shrugged. "I assumed at the time that it stood for a change in the nature of the Jedi. Now I suppose it must refer to the end of the Sith."

"Has all the Eellayin script been translated?" Luke asked.

"Mostly. There are still some symbols we've not been able to identify with certainty."

"On the last panel there are two objects in Vader's hands. I don't know what they are, but there's an inscription on each one."

"Ah, yes. The symbols used there are an earlier form of the script, but unfortunately there's too little of it to translate. Tiriss-elain believed that it describes a specific event, but the meaning is unclear. I presume it relates to this prophecy. The objects you mentioned are the two halves of an ekuila. It's an ancient Eellayin symbol for new life."

"Something like birth, d'you mean?"

"It usually means that," she replied. "Birth, regeneration, the continuity of life... But in this case it can't mean birth in the literal sense. With all that you've told me, it makes sense for the ekuila to symbolize the beginning of a new way of life – the opposite of the sequence of death seen in the previous panels."

"Why's it in two halves?"

"I can't answer that. It's unusual to show the symbol in that way. Perhaps it has something to do with differentiating the two sides of the Force, or a way of representing the end of the Eellayin's association with the Sith and the start of their friendship with the Jedi?"

Luke nodded. "D'you think the Jedi talked about the carvings with Tiriss-elain? They must've known about the links with the Sith."

"She told me the Jedi were researching the cave." Perek-tain hesitated, and Luke had the feeling that the conversation was making her uncomfortable, in the manner of someone breaking an implicit taboo. "I always thought Tiriss-elain knew more about the cave than she was admitting. But she was here on Polis Massa for many years – long before I stepped foot here. The carvings in that cave were special to her and she was secretive – almost possessive – over them. I didn't think it was my place to intrude, so I let it stand. But she always referred to the images as Jedi, not Sith. I never questioned that. Instead, I questioned my own preconceptions over what a Jedi was."

"What happened when Tiriss-elain left?" Luke asked.

Perek-tain looked at him with surprise. "She hasn't left. She still works here, but she's too frail to make it down into the caverns any more. In fact she knows you're here and is hoping to meet you. I'm sure Administrator Que-raik will be organizing it."

Luke kept his face composed, but inwardly he felt a rush of anticipation. There were no guarantees that Tiriss-elain would know much more than Perek-tain, but she'd had direct dealings with Jedi. "I'd like to meet her too. I'm interested in the Jedi who came to visit, so I hope she won't mind me asking her a lot of questions."

"I expect she'll have a lot back. Speaking of questions... there was something I wondered..."

She fell silent, causing Luke to prompt her curiously. "What?"

"Everybody says that you were involved with the Emperor's death. Is it true?"

Luke nodded. "It's true that I was there. A lot of rumors say I killed him, which _isn't_ true. Darth Vader killed him."

"And you said that Vader was a Jedi. I never encountered him, but from everything I've heard, it's very difficult to believe that."

Luke felt the familiar sensation of shutters closing down inside him, isolating and sealing off the knowledge that he couldn't freely divulge. He was uncertain as to whether Perek-tain's comment came from simple disbelief, or if it stemmed from some deeper instinct that Luke's involvement was far more complicated than he was admitting. 

"I can understand how you feel," he said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

"Obviously you met him during the battle at Endor, but did you actually _know_ him? I'm wondering how you can be so certain that the carving is of Vader."

Inwardly Luke flinched, hating the need to avoid the truth. But even if he could've been open about it, how could he explain something that had no rational explanation? 

"I never got the chance to know him. The Emperor believed in destiny and it never occurred to him that anything could change it. By killing him, Vader _did_ change things, but it never would've happened if Vader had been a true Sith. And Vader saved my life at the expense of his own. That's not the action of a Sith."

Luke shrugged, aware how unsatisfactory his answer was – not just to Perek-tain but to himself as well. He knew far too little of either the Jedi or the Sith to make such a categorical statement. And how could he be so sure that the Emperor had been the last of the Sith? Without conscious thought he'd done as Yoda, Ben and his father had exhorted him to do. He'd reached out with his feelings – and he'd known it was true.

The appearance of Senator Danu at his side saved him from further questioning. Danu held a small fragment of a stone vase. When he lifted it up, the light caught the profusion of tiny crystalline particles that were part of the stone's composition. 

"This doesn't look like a local stone," the Senator remarked. "Do you think the Jedi visitors brought gifts for the Eellayin?"

Perek-tain took the object from Danu's outstretched hand. "I'm certain of it," she said. 

She peered at a chrono attached to her utility belt and cast a glance between Luke and the Senator. When she spoke her tone was decisive, signaling an end to the hesitancy she'd exhibited just moments before.

"Let me take you both to our excavation storerooms. I still have much to show you."

***

The crazy thing was, how badly Leia had wanted him to go. 

"I can't explain it. It feels likes something's out of step. Sort of... unbalanced," she'd said.

Han had tried to explain it away with logic. "You're gonna be upset. The way things've turned out–"

"I'm not upset! I wish everyone would stop telling me how I feel! This has nothing to do with any of that. It's to do with... with Luke."

"Because he's not here? Or because of what I did?"

"Neither of those." She'd sighed deeply and pressed the palms of her hands to her temples as though trying to calm herself. "After the Emperor's death Luke seemed more certain of himself. He knew what he'd done, and he knew he'd been right to do it. And when we started to train together, something just clicked into place. I felt like I belonged there. As though there'd been a place for me, just waiting."

Han had nodded but remained silent.

"It was to do with the Force. It felt like a calm, stable place. A refuge."

"And now it's changed?"

"Not just because I've seen another side to it. That's more to with learning and understanding how it works. It's because Luke seems on the verge of changing the way he is. If he thinks he needs to live his life differently, he'll do it."

"And you'll lose him if he goes. That's why you're feeling like this."

Leia had stared at Han with something like surprise. "I won't lose him. If he decides to leave, I'll be leaving with him."

He should've been expecting that, but the admission had startled him even more than Leia's blunt assessment of the power she'd achieved through anger a few days ago. And he hadn't known what to say. He'd stood there, holding Leia's gaze, knowing that she must've seen the confusion in his eyes. Only days before, Leia would've been the first to protest against such a possibility, concocting every manner of argument to set against Luke's reasoning. 

In the face of Han's silence, Leia had explained further. "I keep imagining trying to live like the Jedi of the old Order. But instead of things feeling right, they just feel... skewed."

She hadn't known how to describe it, but Han thought he'd isolated what lay at the heart of her bewilderment. She'd been doing what Yoda and Ben had instructed Luke to do. She'd examined her feelings and wondered why the answer they'd given her was the opposite of the one she'd expected.

Then Leia had surprised Han yet again, pulling him into a hug that was full of unexpected warmth. "You must be wondering what you've done to deserve the pair of us," she'd said, laughter bubbling just below her words. It'd been an attempt to lighten both their moods, and on a superficial level it had worked. Han had left Leia smiling after him, but he doubted that happiness would last the length of his walk to the Falcon.

"Just tell him exactly how you feel, and forget about all the other problems," she'd said as he'd paused in the doorway. "It's all you can do now."

So now, at the top of the Falcon's ramp, Han turned and looked back at the base. His eyes sought the third-storey windows. Leia was there, watching him leave. He raised a hand, waited until she acknowledged the gesture, then moved into the ship.

He'd managed to wangle four days leave out of General Madine, but he'd be spending over half of that time traveling. For the remainder, he had no idea what he was going to do, and even less of an idea how his unexpected arrival would be seen by Luke. 

***

After the oppressive atmosphere of the caves, the tall tower of the Medical Center was almost too dazzling in contrast. Long racks of daylight simulators bounced glaring light off the pristine white walls and gleaming, sterile surfaces. Everywhere was immaculately clean and devoid of clutter. 

Droids worked silently, gliding about from one bank of equipment to another, transporting patients and communicating in voices designed to mimic the fluting tones of the Polis Massans.

A tall, angular droid slid up to them, greeting the Administrator and giving an approximation of the familiar nod of welcome to Luke and Senator Danu. "Are these the guests from the Alliance?" it asked.

Que-raik nodded. "They're here to visit our clone-cell unit. Sheni-dain is expecting us."

The droid led them through a series of high-security doors, activating each one with a coded combination that only it seemed to know. Danu gave Luke a surreptitious glance and raised his eyebrows. It appeared that even the Administrator of the colony didn't have free access to the clone-cell laboratories, and Luke wondered if this was an aftereffect of the Imperial ban, or a mechanism designed to protect the highly-desirable research from theft.

The laboratories were at the very top of the tower and were as spotless as the rest of the Center. Sheni-dain, at work beside a run of darkened cloning capsules, looked up at their arrival. She rose quickly, dipping her head in greeting.

"Senator Giddean Danu and Master Luke Skywalker?"

Luke bit back the instinctive denial that sprung up every time someone referred to him as 'Master'. The Polis Massans were expecting a Jedi, and attempting to explain his misgivings over that title was hardly appropriate here. Instead, he returned the scientist's greeting, and let the Senator start on the prerequisite small talk. 

He looked around the laboratory with curiosity. Other than in its own, officially-sanctioned units, the Empire had outlawed cloning technology throughout the galaxy. Neither Luke nor Danu had ever encountered the process before, although they'd both come across the end results of the Imperial centers more than enough times.

Sheni-dain guided them around the unit, explaining the various stages of cell development that led to the finished substance. As with most of the Polis Massans, Luke found it difficult to estimate her age. She seemed slightly uneasy with them, adopting a manner both brusque and clinical. Luke wondered if this was down to wariness. Senator Danu had told him that the Polis Massans were unusually introverted, preferring to remain amongst members of their own close-knit community.

"We're able to provide cloned skin transplants for patients requiring cosmetic reconstruction. The process is close to perfect from an aesthetic point of view, but we haven't been able to provide precise neural integration, as I think you're aware. I believe this is the procedure you plan to discuss with us, in return for our knowledge of clone-cell production?"

"Indeed," Danu replied. "I think, having seen what you've achieved here, we'd be very anxious to set up co-operation as soon as it suits you."

"I'm sure you understand that our exact procedures are very highly guarded. The galactic ban on private cloning forced our research underground, although we were lucky the Empire paid no heed to us, stuck out here. We've tried to keep the process as secret as possible because we're aware that there's huge scope for abuse."

"I understand that. I'm sure you want assurances that our intentions are purely medical."

"We'd wish to visit your own laboratories and confer with your droids. By all accounts, you've achieved remarkable advances with neural surgery."

The scientist turned to Luke and inwardly he tensed, knowing what was coming next. 

"This technique was used on your hand?"

"Yes, I think so," he said. "The surgical droid wired a neural receptor into the hand, which is linked to my central nervous system."

"You feel normal sensation? Pain?"

"Yes."

"Would you allow me examine it?"

Danu made as if to intervene, but Luke shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Sure. I won't be able to answer any detailed questions about the surgery though. You'd have to ask one of our droids."

"I'm intrigued to see a genuine working model," Sheni-dain explained.

The remark stung, even though Luke had been expecting a comment of that nature. To Sheni-dain, the hand would undoubtedly be a fascinating and complex piece of equipment. He couldn't expect the scientist to have any idea of the emotional trauma that lay behind the surgery. 

Many times, Luke had tried to imagine how he might feel about the hand if he'd lost the real one in some fluke accident, or through disease or injury. Would he be able to view it as impassively as Sheni-dain? But he'd never been able to separate the physical reality of the loss from the circumstances surrounding it, and it hindered his ability to accept it in the way that he should.

He looked away when Sheni-dain opened the access chamber, irritated with his inability to stem that knee-jerk reaction. He forced himself to turn his gaze back – it wasn't as if burying his head in the sand was going to change anything.

Sheni-dain's enthusiastic reaction took him aback. "Oh, it's beautiful. And wonderfully complex! May I test the responses?" 

"Go ahead." He could at least appreciate the hand for its technical capabilities, although considering it as an object of beauty wasn't something likely to cross his mind. He caught the Senator's eye and gave him a wry grin. Just another step in the process of achieving galactic harmony. 

He found his attention wandering as the scientist proceeded. He didn't have to do very much. Just move his fingers when she asked him to. It was funny really. To think he'd been worried about how he was supposed to behave as a Jedi ambassador, and now all he needed to do was sit quietly while Sheni-dain made adjustments to the hand's interface. It was still diplomacy, in a weird kind of way. 

The sharp shock of pain made him gasp, his fingers clenching involuntarily on the wires Sheni-dain had attached to his hand. Beside him, Artoo beeped angrily.

"I'm sorry," she said, her brow furrowed with regret. "Our cloned skin would feel that only as mild discomfort."

"I thought Master Skywalker explained that he felt pain," Danu said.

"My apologies," Sheni-dain repeated. "I hadn't expected the response to be so acute. The work is even more advanced than I'd anticipated." 

"It's okay," Luke said. "It just took me by surprise, that's all."

With more care than she might otherwise have shown, Sheni-dain removed the electrodes from his fingertips. "There's been some repair work done. The hand was damaged?"

Luke nodded. "By blaster bolt."

"Did the interface shut down the pain response straight away?"

"It took a few seconds."

"So that could be improved on. Are you happy with the hand?"

"I'd have preferred to keep the original one, but I guess so."

"Would you be interested in replacing the synthskin with cloned skin, if you were compatible for such a transplant?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't think it'd matter that much to me to be honest. It's not that noticeable to others."

"But to yourself?"

"Well, obviously I know it's not real. But I'd know that whatever type of skin covering it had."

"Out of curiosity, would you allow me to test for compatibility? There's no obligation to take it any further of course. We're at a stage in our research where we're almost ready to develop a universal technique, suitable for all species. We've had success with human skin cells, but there are various factors that add complications." 

"What does the test involve?" Luke asked. If it was simple, he supposed there'd be no harm in accepting, even though the whole process had begun to make him feel uneasy. She wasn't exactly leaving him without a choice, but the implications of refusing were not straightforward. Han would've grabbed his arm and marched him out of here long before it'd got to this stage – but then playing political games wasn't Han's thing. 

"Just a tiny cell sample. Nothing more. It'd take just one second, and I can do it straight away."

"It doesn't include blasting megavolts of electricity through him does it?" Danu asked, his normally composed voice ruffled by concern.

Sheni-dain gave a short, apologetic laugh. "No, it's a plain old-fashioned skin prick." She picked up Luke's other hand and examined the thumb. "I'd take it from here."

She pulled a tray of equipment towards her and located a small steel implement sealed inside a transparent pouch. She waited expectantly until Luke nodded.

It felt to Luke a little like an insect sting, but without the lingering after-pain. A tiny trickle of blood crept across his thumb and he wiped it away.

Sheni-dain placed the implement inside a metal tube and tapped in a few commands on her data console. "Do you want me to process it? It's up to you."

"Okay," Luke said, curious as to what he was supposed to be compatible with. His own skin maybe? He'd probably find he wasn't. 

Sheni-dain placed the tube inside the drum of one of the many machines in the laboratory. None of them served any purpose known to Luke, and the explanation of the cloning process had been so full of technical jargon that it'd been mostly incomprehensible. But maybe that had been intentional.

"The computer will send us an analysis in just under a minute. It tests the cells for the ability to replicate successfully under the conditions necessary. Sometimes – with other species – there can be a mutation."

A soft beeping indicated the presentation of the analysis, and Sheni-dain studied the screen in silence for a few seconds. She had an air of puzzlement when she looked back at Luke.

"You've passed the compatibility test, but... Well, there's something strange come up."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Luke murmured, supposing he should at least be grateful that his skin cells didn't seem to harbor any tendencies towards mutation. He twisted round to look at Artoo, startled by the droid's reaction. He'd moved away towards the laboratory doors and was circling around anxiously, making soft, apprehensive noises. Puzzled, Luke directed his attention back to Sheni-dain.

"The computer has matched you to a previous analysis," she explained. "I need to access old data for that because it's going back a number of years."

"I don't understand. What previous analysis?" Luke asked.

"Of your skin cell signature. It's been taken before."

"It can't have been."

Sheni-dain made a small, confused movement of her shoulders. "But this is your second visit here?"

"No – I've never been here before. It's got to be a mistake." He glanced round again at Artoo, distracted by his unusual behavior. The droid was still upset, demanding in quiet beeps that Luke leave the laboratories immediately.

"There's no mistake. An individual's skin cell signature is unique, and yours matches exactly an earlier sample that we hold here."

"It can't be from me. The computer must be mixing the samples up," Luke insisted.

Sheni-dain shook her head. "That's not possible. But it's a mystery to me why the earlier sample is unassigned. That should never have happened."

"Are there any other details with it?" Luke asked.

Sheni-dain was scrutinizing the data on the screen. When she spoke her voice had taken on an undercurrent of incredulity. "It was taken as part of our routine registration tests twenty-five years ago. There can only have been one reason for that." She turned back to face Luke. "You were born here." 


	18. Chapter 18

Alone at last, Luke kicked off his boots and lay down on the bed. There was something uniquely exhausting about diplomacy. Maintaining a polite front hadn't been particularly difficult – the Polis Massans were welcoming and friendly, with a reserve that came from over two decades of isolation, and not from suspicion or dislike of outsiders. Even so, it'd still felt like being on public show, and that would've been hard enough in normal circumstances. But he'd made discoveries, which directly impacted on the convoluted issues dominating his life, right in full view of the watching community. He had a precarious hold on his emotions at the best of times, and the effort of remaining composed throughout the ensuing meetings, ritual drinks party and formal dinner had been immense. It was as though something had drained all his reserves of energy, and his brain now threatened to go into shut-down if he didn't regain some control over his thoughts. He didn't know where to begin in sorting through the implications of everything he'd learned today.

"Hell, Artoo. This is crazy."

Artoo beeped at him apprehensively, and Luke rolled over to face him. "I wish I knew what was bothering you. We're not gonna come to any harm here." At least, not harm in the traditional sense. What the place was doing to his sanity was another matter.

So he'd been born here. On the surface it made no sense. No records existed to confirm it and, according to the Polis Massan medical files, no human babies had ever been born on the asteroid. Nor had they ever admitted any human females to the Medical Center. But the evidence of the matching cell signatures was indisputable. Sheni-dain had shown him the base data from which the conclusions were drawn. There was no possibility of a mistake. 

She'd also explained how the Polis Massans took routine registration samples of every being born here. And such a sample, taken when he could only have been a newborn baby, matched his own cell signature precisely. 

It left just one logical explanation. Someone had deliberately erased all records of his and Leia's births. The reasons for that hardly needed stating. Yet somehow, somebody had overlooked the cell sample itself. It had stayed, recorded but anonymous, for 25 years when, just by chance, Luke set in motion its retrieval.

If what he'd learned was true, it should've felt like some momentous discovery. Instead, it had left him confused and out of step with all that constituted his old life. For as long as he could remember, Tatooine had been his home. It still was, in the way he felt that deep-rooted and ever-present sense of belonging. It had been there throughout his desire to get away and still remained despite his uneasiness over ever returning. Yet he'd never known for certain if his roots lay elsewhere. Aunt Beru had always claimed to have no knowledge of either the circumstances of his birth or the identity of his mother, and Luke had never probed deeply into his father's past. 

"They were... settlers," Aunt Beru had once told him. "Your grandmother came to Tatooine when your father was very young."

But his Aunt had never told Luke _where_ they came from. It hadn't mattered to Luke at the time, but now he wondered if Aunt Beru had even known. 

"Did my grandmother ever know my mother?" Luke had asked.

Aunt Beru had shaken her head. "She wasn't from here. Your father met her when he was traveling. He never got the chance to bring her home."

Maybe there _were_ some answers in those long-ago words of his Aunt's, but derived from what she'd _not_ said, rather than the little she'd given away. Because she hadn't said that Luke's grandmother had died well before his father had met his mother. It gave the notion that there might have been a more established, longer-term relationship between them – an intimation that Luke hadn't been the result of some one-off, empty encounter. And it was impossible not to speculate on all the varied interpretations there were as to why Anakin had never been able to take Luke's mother home.

_Home._ The word had many connotations, but what had it meant to Anakin Skywalker? He'd come as a child from some other place, with no mention ever made of a father – at least, never in Luke's presence. And maybe he'd left as a child too – ready to train as Obi-Wan's apprentice. But even if his father had spent little time on Tatooine, it must've had some meaning for him. For one thing, Luke's grandmother had chosen to remain there. 

But as for his father not taking his mother home – how could he have done? He'd been a Jedi. The relationship, if there'd been one, would've gone against the Jedi code, according to Senator Danu. Luke wondered if the same rules applied to different types of relationships, such as those between a mother and her son. But even if he'd thought to press Aunt Beru further, he may not have received any answers to the questions that troubled him now. Such as when did his father leave Tatooine? How often had he returned to visit his mother? When was the last time Aunt Beru had seen his father?

Like Leia, he'd felt safe and secure in his understanding of his upbringing. Both of them had always known their real parents had died, but their emotional investments had been in those who'd brought them up. As far as Luke had been concerned, his father had died by some never-explained means, and Luke had stayed in the care of his Aunt and Uncle. It had never occurred to him, in all the years of his childhood, to question how he'd got there. He'd always imagined that his father had brought him to Tatooine after the death of Luke's mother, and that he'd left Luke with his Aunt and Uncle when he went off working. Luke had pictured him, adventurous and confident, running the difficult and dangerous spice routes that Luke had glamorized in his imagination. 

The reality – the little of it he knew – was so radically different that it was almost impossible to relate to. Born anonymously somewhere even more inhospitable and out-of-the-way than Tatooine, and secreted away to be hidden from the Emperor and his own father. Obi-Wan had told him, shortly before Luke had left Dagobah for the last time, that he'd been the one who'd taken Luke to Tatooine. Luke had nodded, still too astounded by the discovery of a sister to challenge the logic in that. To hide him in the midst of his father's family, on a world his father had once belonged to must've held dangers that Obi-Wan would've been fully aware of. Yet he'd entrusted Luke's upbringing to his Aunt and Uncle, despite the enormous risks involved. He must've told them at least part of the truth, if only to ensure they kept certain facts from Luke.

And he must've had a very good reason for wanting Luke to go to Tatooine. Possibly, a reason that had its roots not just in the sentimental wish to keep family together, but in something much more complex. Something that led all the way back to the visions of the Eellayin and their depiction of a world with twin suns. And a Jedi who held in his hands the representation of new life.

_"...it can't mean birth in the literal sense..."_ Perek-tain's conclusion, drawn from both her own assumption and Luke's confirmation that the figure was a Jedi, was the obvious one to make in view of her knowledge of Jedi practices. But in those two ornately-decorated and incised halves held aloft by Vader, Luke had seen something else besides abstract symbolism. Two parts of one whole – separated but perfectly interlocking, waiting for the right circumstances to reunite. It _was_ a birth – of that he was certain. The birth of twins.

All these thoughts felt close to collision, and Luke was sure that his head would simply implode if he couldn't straighten out the facts from the coincidences. Because what were the odds of the Polis Massans taking a second cell sample from him? And if he hadn't lost his hand, then he'd never have had the compatibility test. And he'd lost his hand because Vader had forced him to see a premonition of the future that had motivated his rush to Bespin. And of course, the loss of his hand had ultimately shown him a shocking parallel between himself and Vader – one that was inextricably linked to his refusal to accept the fate the Emperor had lined up for him.

Was everything part of some huge, interconnected web, or _was_ it all just coincidence? Palpatine had made it clear that events on Endor had been things he'd foreseen, yet his insight hadn't been infallible. He'd failed to predict his own death, and he'd been too blinkered to sense the latent good in Vader.

Luke's thoughts went back to that final panel in the cave once again. If the Emperor had known of the Eellayin caves, what conclusions had he drawn from the carving? If he'd even suspected that the panel depicted his own death, had he assumed that Anakin's turn to the Dark Side would have prevented it from happening? Could it have given Palpatine an additional reason to control Anakin in order to subvert the course of the future? 

And what kind of coincidence foresaw Luke's own birth thousands of years before it happened, in the very place where he'd be born? If the final panel _was_ depicting that. And if it was, why did everything end right there? Nobody, it seemed, had surmised his future beyond his birth with any degree of accuracy. Ben had believed he would one day kill Vader. Vader had believed he'd join him. The Emperor had believed he'd take Vader's place. 

And Yoda? _"Will he finish what he begins?"_ But what exactly had Yoda meant by that? His training? The destruction of Vader and the Emperor? Ensuring the future of the Jedi? Fulfilling his destiny, whatever that was? That didn't appear in any vision of the future – at least not one that he could recognize, and the question he had to ask himself, was why? 

Luke rubbed a hand across his face, feeling the painful build-up of tension behind his eyes. Artoo was still by the bed, making soft, plaintive beeps for attention.

"Sorry Artoo. I'm just slowly going crazy, but don't worry about it," Luke told him. Artoo whirred back at him, more decisive this time.

"The Medical Center? Why would I wanna go back there? Unless you're thinking that wiring me up again to several thousand volts of electricity might be a cure."

Artoo began circling insistently and Luke sat up, frowning. "You're serious about it aren't you? But there's nothing there. Sheni-dain checked all the records. Besides, I can't just wander around there uninvited."

But Artoo didn't give up, and Luke found himself pulling his boots back on and trudging back down the corridor towards the repulsorcar halt. He wasn't alone in wandering the corridors of Polis Massa late at night. There was a constant stream of returning workers, weariness radiating from them with every step they took, and others, lively and refreshed, making their way to the mines.

They boarded a transport and Luke leaned his head against the transparisteel viewport. He'd just about had enough of circling around the incessant corridors, but Artoo had indulged whims of his in the past, so the least he could do was to follow this through. 

The Center was almost as busy as it had been earlier on in the day. Luke felt conspicuous, aware of the curious stares of the Polis Massans. Human visitors were a rarity, and it was even more unusual to find one unaccompanied, other than by a droid. Heading back towards the laboratories seemed to be the obvious route, despite the fact they had no chance of getting through the security doors by themselves. Artoo, however, had an alternative plan and immediately trundled off down the opposite corridor, leaving Luke to double back, bemusedly catching him up.

"I don't think we can really go off down here by ourselves," Luke warned. 

Artoo took no notice, so Luke shrugged and followed him. The corridor led past suites of rooms full of patients. Electronic holoboards directing visitors to various units flickered at every junction, but Luke could read none of them. The Polis Massans used their native script, and there were none of the translations into Basic that were ubiquitous in more central worlds.

"I hope you know where you're going," Luke said, "because I certainly don't."

Artoo gave a couple of confident whistles, and extended his pincer arm to activate the mechanism of a closed door. It shut behind them with an almost imperceptible hiss. Beyond it, the Center was quiet and there was no obvious presence of any medical staff or droids. Luke glanced around him with some disquiet. Senator Danu would be unlikely to be pleased if Luke managed to blow their chances of cooperation by infringing the bounds of hospitality. The Administrator had urged them to feel free to explore the colony, but if this was a private unit then he was surely overstepping the mark.

Despite his misgivings, Luke continued down the corridor, amused by the way Artoo kept constantly swiveling his head around to check that Luke was following. The atmosphere of this particular section seemed more relaxed. Gone was the harshness of the daylight simulators, replaced by glowpanels that emitted a softer light. There was very little noise – just the tap of his boots against the tiled floor and the electronic humming of Artoo. 

He'd gone just a couple of steps further when he heard the new sound. It was faint, as though coming from a partially soundproofed room. It was high pitched, mewling, repetitive and persistent – a little like an animal in distress. Luke slowed his progress, listening. The knowledge of what it was hit him in the same instant that Artoo stopped ahead of him, and it sent a trickle of something like amazement through his veins.

It was the cry of a newborn infant. The sound was dissimilar enough to a human baby's cry not to be instantly recognizable, but there was now no mistaking what it was. And the strangest of thoughts had entered Luke's head. He'd assumed Artoo was taking him to the administrative heart of the Medcenter, where there might've been a chance for the droid to search for missing data. But for Artoo to have brought him to a birthing unit... 

He stared at Artoo with growing bewilderment. "How did you know where to come?"

Artoo made no reply, but had started to make the odd, anxious circling movements that he'd made in Sheni-dain's laboratory. It was another answer of sorts. 

"In the cloning lab – you knew didn't you? You knew what Sheni-dain was going to tell me?" Luke shook his head, mystified. "But... how?"

Artoo chittered back at him with sounds that Luke couldn't interpret. Luke moved up to him, finally noticing what it was that Artoo had stopped beside.

It was a large synthglass viewing window. The chamber inside was empty but for a steel-framed operating table and banks of dormant monitoring equipment. Artoo had ceased his circling, and was rocking backwards and forwards instead.

"I need to go in," Luke said quietly.

The droid backed away from him. It seemed like a form of distress – having brought him here, Artoo was clearly having second thoughts, and Luke wondered why. He crouched down and laid a hand on the droid's dome.

"Whatever it is you're finding difficult, we can work through it. I'm finding it hard too, but things have gone too far for me to back away now. If we go in there together, it'll make it easier."

Artoo's dome swiveled round and he made several small noises of unease. But as Luke stood up, the droid moved across to the console at the side of the window, extending his arm to reach for the access controls. After the door had slid open, Artoo rolled inside with a renewed decisiveness. Luke followed him.

It didn't happen straight away, but crept up on him slowly as he wandered around the room. It was a kind of recognition. A sense of some buried connection that started as a subtle ripple in the Force, but gained in strength as he moved towards the center. The feeling didn't emanate from the objects within the room – the Polis Massans would've undoubtedly updated and changed those over the course of 25 years. It came from the room itself, as though it held some distant memory that had permeated the air and filtered into every structural fiber. He touched a hand to the table, mainly to steady himself against a growing sensation of vertigo. But the instant his fingers gripped the cold steel he felt a shift beneath his feet, like the violent tilting of a ship mid battle. The rushed, dizzying feel of a fall made him close his eyes in protest and he sank to the floor in an attempt to halt it. And suddenly there was no balance, and no light, and nothing to stop the visions that flooded his mind and closed around him...

 

_Pain. Relentless, insistent spasms that crushed the breath from his lungs. But there was emotional pain too, and that was harder to bear because there seemed no end to it. False promises and platitudes merely softened the edges, but there was no true solace._

_Images colliding. Different worlds and different times, but joined by a common thread of encroaching darkness that overrode the small touches of joy and happiness. Knowledge and ignorance were interchangeable, and doubt and certainty merged into a chaos of confusion._

_Snatched voices and meaningless words. Obi-Wan sobbing in the night, his words choked with anguish – "How can you still believe it?". Yoda, his confident directives falling onto oblivious ears – "Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose."_

_Hot desert sands, both familiar and strange. Shadows cast in the suns by those united in mourning. His Aunt and Uncle, young and confused, facing the unknown. Other faces, obscure and shadowy, suffering and dying. And everywhere there was fear. Fear of death and fear of change. Fear of dreams and fear of the future._

_And then, without warning, the overwhelming distress vanished, replaced by something that grew and encompassed all the suffering and uncertainty. A building light that chased shadows from dark corners and brought warmth, hope and conviction. But more than that, the light showed both life and death, irrevocably linked but devoid of fear and inevitability. And maybe once there'd been a choice to make, but all that remained was acceptance..._

 

Luke opened his eyes, taken aback to find that the room around him looked exactly the same as moments before. Because everything else had changed.

Here, in the center of a birthing room, as he'd tried to shelter from the storm of emotion, he'd seen all he needed to see. And everything had become so simple. The indecision that had accompanied him to Polis Massa had disappeared, replaced by a new conviction that was astounding in its obviousness.

He knew now why Yoda and Obi-Wan had told him nothing. Knew why his future held no predestined certainties. And he knew just what he needed to do.

He pulled himself up from the floor and moved to reassure Artoo. The droid, acutely agitated, calmed at Luke's touch.

"It's alright Artoo. Everything's okay now."

Luke glanced around the room for a final time. "Let's go back and get some sleep. Tomorrow we can start making plans." 


	19. Chapter 19

Han came out of hyperspace just short of the narrow corridor that stretched between the asteroid belts of the destroyed Outer Rim world. It was the only safe route into the heart of the cluster, and led directly to the largest, inhabited rock that kept the name of the world it had once belonged to. 

It'd taken him less than two days to reach Polis Massa, and Luke, having traveled in the much slower Chandrilan cruiser, would've only been on the asteroid for a relatively short time. But it might have been enough for him to have come to a decision about the future. Just the simple fact of getting away from Arudin and his responsibilities to the Alliance may have been the only trigger Luke needed to see things from a clearer perspective. 

But there was also Senator Danu. Luke had said that he suspected the politician knew more about the assignment than he was letting on, and that, combined with the Senator's knowledge of the Jedi code and old Council ways, left Han feeling on edge.

That left him, and the way he'd acted. Luke would've had plenty of time to reflect on that. Whatever the outcome, there was no doubt that Han had pushed things, in one direction or another, to a point where something had to change. Whatever that something turned out to be, he'd get to find out soon enough. He just had to hope that coming here wasn't one of his crazier ideas. 

He'd spent the trip considering how he was going to explain his sudden arrival to Luke, but hadn't given any thought as to how Senator Danu or the administrator of the mining colony might view his visit. Polis Massa was hardly a closed community, but travelers probably didn't just show up out of the blue. It didn't look like there was much to see. Mind you, he'd once thought that about Tatooine... He switched his communicator to a subspace channel and prepared to request clearance to land.

A short time later, as he waited for the Polis Massans to connect the Falcon to the air-lock of the connecting tunnel, he noticed the frank stares from the crew of the landing pad. 

"Do you have an appointment with Administrator Que-raik?" one of them asked him, tapping in a query on a handheld datapad, as if checking Han's credentials.

"Do I need one?" he replied, more brusquely than he'd intended.

The Polis Massan bowed his head. "Our colony welcomes all visitors, but few choose to come here without a reason."

"I didn't say I didn't have a reason. I've got a message for one of your other visitors. The ones from Arudin."

He hadn't really needed to add that qualifier. He could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of human visitors who'd come here in the last couple of decades. And the guests from the Alliance were no doubt the focus of every inhabitant's curiosity.

"I'll take you to the central hub. The Alliance visitors are being looked after by the Administrator."

They boarded a repulsorcar, and the transport wound its way through a web of corridors towards the center. Han would've preferred a much less formal approach than a meeting with the Administrator, but the set-up here didn't leave much room for anything else. It wasn't as though he'd been able to slip in unobserved. Besides, as Luke was here on official Alliance business Han supposed it wouldn't hurt to be diplomatic. 

It turned out that the central hub contained a suite of rooms which, at first sight, seemed to belie the Polis Massan inclination for intimidating brightness and shiny surfaces. Wooden paneling softened the artificial daylight and unrecognizable, ancient-looking artifacts strewn about were an indication of some fascination with the past. 

Within the room were Senator Danu and two Polis Massans, one of whom was wearing a decorative chest plaque that Han thought probably signified official status. All three stood at Han's arrival.

"General Solo. It's an honor to welcome you to Polis Massa," Que-raik said, dipping his head in welcome. "I'm the Administrator, and this is my colleague, Sheni-dain. You're already acquainted with Senator Danu, I presume?" 

Han glanced at Danu, who gave him a curious smile in return. "Yeah, we've met before."

"Let me fetch you a drink," Que-raik said. "It's a long trip from Arudin."

"Thanks. It wasn't too bad – only a day and a half."

Danu raised his eyebrows. "Then the _Millennium Falcon_ really does live up to its reputation."

Han grinned. "When everything works."

He took the proffered green drink and took a seat on a low bench. Danu sat beside him.

"Are you here on Alliance business?" Que-raik asked.

Han shook his head. "Only indirectly. I've got a message for Luke Skywalker."

Que-raik nodded. "I see. But I hope you'll stay and make your trip worthwhile. I'll have a room sorted out for you."

"No, it's okay. I don't know how long I'll be here. I can stay on my ship anyway – save you the trouble."

"We have plenty of rooms, and I won't hear of you sleeping on your ship. Besides, it's a pleasure to have another member of the Alliance joining us, even if for so short a time." He rose up from his bench seat. "Excuse me whilst I contact someone."

Sheni-dain stood up immediately after Que-raik's departure. "I must go too. I have to transfer some new cell colonies into provisional hosts. Perhaps we'll have a chance to meet again later," she said to Han. "If you have the time, I would be pleased to show you around the laboratories."

"Thanks, yeah," Han said, bemused. "Good to meet you."

Sheni-dain dipped her head to Senator Danu and Han, gathered up her datapad, and left. Han turned to Danu as soon as the door had hissed to a close behind her.

" _'Transfer of new cell colonies_ '?"

"She's in charge of clone-cell technology. This place has been working on medical advances using cloned skin for years."

"I thought cloning was illegal."

Danu gave a dry laugh. "It was. As was opposition to the Empire, defecting from the Imperial Navy and destroying Imperial property, including Death Stars. Shall I go on?"

Han grinned back at him. "Don't bother. I see what you're sayin'." 

"You must be tired from the journey, but I expect you'll want to see Luke before you get some rest."

"I'm okay. I got enough sleep on the journey. But if Luke's busy..."

"He's with the archaeologists in the Eellayin caverns." Danu paused for a moment, his expression adopting a trace of hesitancy. "It's good that you've come. There've been some... incidences here."

Han frowned. "What kind of incidences? To do with Luke?"

"I only know a little, but I think something more has happened. He's not letting on – at least, not to me."

"I don't get you. He's okay?"

"Oh yes," Danu reassured him. "But don't hear it from me. I'll leave him to tell you everything." 

"How do I find him?"

"I'll take you there. At least, part of the way."

 

Traveling in the public repulsorcar, Han studied his fellow passengers surreptitiously. It was impossible to gauge their demeanors – the thick, featureless membranes that formed their faces made them seem unfathomable. Han supposed they had a subtle form of body language that transmitted their responses in the same way humans would read facial expressions. Between themselves they didn't appear to use much speech, even though they'd produced it freely when talking to Han and the Senator. 

Listening to them now, the sounds they made had a curious construction that Han had never come across before. He could usually define the origins of a language, even if he couldn't understand the words, but there was no core to this one that he could pin down. He wondered if it wasn't really conventional speech at all, but an alternative means of communication. 

The transport served the mines first before carrying on to the excavated caverns of the Eellayin. There were numerous mining stations on this route alone – all glaringly-lit, high-tech tributes to the Polis Massan preoccupation with the asteroid's ancient history. Most of the passengers disembarked at the mines, their feet encased in heavy boot covers, ready to compensate for the reduced levels of artificial gravity that existed away from the main mine complexes. Only a few remained on board to make their way down to the caverns.

Han tried to study the wall carvings as they went along, but the repulsorcar moved too quickly for him to make out the detail. What he did see came across as uninspiring and soulless.

He turned to Danu. "This place kinda gives me the creeps."

Danu nodded. "You know, Luke said much the same thing. I think he could sense a mood that wasn't entirely pleasant. I get nothing like that, but there's certainly a feeling of emptiness here."

As the repulsorcar approached the plascrete hut, Danu shifted in his seat. "I'll introduce you to Perek-tain. If Luke's not with her, she'll know where to find him. I'm going to head back because I'm due to talk to the clone-cell group in just over an hour. We're very close to finalizing cooperation. Luke, by the way, is partly responsible for that, but by purely unintentional means."

"What d'you mean?"

Something passed across Danu's face that looked a little like guilt, but he didn't offer an explanation. Instead, he simply smiled back at Han. "I'm sure Luke will explain."

 

The elderly Polis Massan archaeologist had offered to lead Han to Luke, but Han had wanted to make his own way through the caves. His attempt to explain this to Perek-tain in a way that didn't cause offence hadn't quite gone to plan, and Perek-tain had regarded him with something like laughter in her eyes. She'd nodded and explained how to reach the final cavern.

"There's only one way to go, and no way to get lost," she'd said.

So no way for Luke to avoid him either, Han thought. Not that Luke would ever do that. It wasn't in his nature to avoid anything. Even idiots who spent hours explaining how they weren't going to make demands, just before broadcasting all their secrets to the entire Rebel Alliance.

The lofty, echoing caverns were mostly empty of other presences, although every now and again Han would come across an inhabitant intently peering at one of the carvings. Sometimes they'd be tapping details into datapads, or just simply gazing at the images. Occasionally, Han stopped to study some of the carvings, recognizing aliens from many worlds. Strange for a species with such a hermit-like existence to be so widely knowledgeable of all corners of the galaxy. Danu had explained that the Polis Massans had a strong affinity with the extinct lifestyle of the Eellayin because it partly reflected their own, inwards-looking existence. It didn't look like the Eellayin had been that withdrawn to Han, but then he knew next to nothing about them.

As the rocky trail grew ever more precarious, it felt to Han like he was walking to the end of something. Of course he was, literally, but it was a feeling based on instinct and had little to do with the caves themselves. They just seemed to personify the journey of discovery that had been his life in the past few weeks. Or was that months? Or years?

The sound of his boots against the stone was duller here, the lowered roof taking away the hollow resonance of the echo, and the rougher surface absorbing the sounds of his progress. It wouldn't make any difference. Luke would know he was coming anyway. He didn't know when Luke had first begun to sense the presence of others, but like everything to do with Luke's knowledge and use of the Force, it was a trait that had developed rapidly since Endor. It had never felt intrusive to Han because Luke didn't consciously go searching for people in that way, and although he noted and absorbed the subtle changes in the Force that an approaching person brought about, he mostly left it at that. 

A low archway, only just visible in the reduced light, led into the final cavern. Han could see the flickering of candlelight inside, but not much else. He wasn't quite sure why he hesitated, but it took him a few seconds of deliberation before entering the cave. He had to stoop down low to avoid the rocky overhang, and when he straightened up the cold was the first thing that hit him. He hadn't realized that the preceding caverns had been artificially heated, but that could've been the only explanation for the marked drop in temperature.

Save for the small pool of candlelight, it was very dark in the cave. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust and it was only then that he saw Luke. He stood at the far side of the cave, looking almost as one with the shadowy images on the panels that circled the walls. He held his cloak tightly wrapped around him as though warding off the chill. He'd pulled his hood up over his head, obscuring his features and creating a barrier that even the light from the candle at his feet couldn't break through.

Han stayed in the entrance, uncertainty striking him with more force than usual. Luke seemed almost unapproachable, hidden away beneath his cloak, and the strangeness of their surroundings intensified the aura of inscrutability around him. The air was thin in this cave and Han began to feel peculiarly light-headed from the lack of oxygen. It was a bizarre sensation, to be so deep below the surface yet to find the pull of gravity reduced, and the anticipated dense air to be just the opposite. It all added to the sense of unreality that had crept up on him and frozen his feet to the spot.

"Han." 

The single word, spoken quietly, gave nothing away, but it broke the awkwardness that had kept Han from moving. He strode forward quickly, his impulse grounded in a need for reassurance that he wasn't sure Luke could offer. But in the first step Luke took towards him, Han recognized a matching hesitancy. It wasn't detachment that had prevented Luke from coming to find him in the chain of caves, but simple doubt. 

To say they hadn't made things easy for each other was about as big an understatement Han could think of, and Luke was bound to wonder at the reasons for Han's visit. Too concerned with the consequences of all his self-questioning on Han, Luke had probably considered an outcome where he ended up being alone in any case, regardless of other pressures. But doubt could spring from other sources too – ones that were at the heart of Luke's quandary. Han reminded himself to be rational.

But all that calm analysis threatened to go to hell, simply because he couldn't control his reactions at being with Luke again. The warmth of Luke was startling in contrast to the rank cold of the cave, and Han reached out to pull him close.

It was almost back to that sense of belonging, and Han took a deep breath in, letting the subtle scent of Luke override the staleness of the cave's atmosphere. The action caused a dull pain in his lungs, and a momentary struggle to find enough oxygen.

Partly out of necessity, and partly out of a wish to escape the cave, he tugged Luke back towards the archway and into the heated, air-controlled comfort of the adjoining cavern. His fingers gripped Luke's hood, pushing it away from his face and off his head, needing to rid Luke of the symbolic shield of his cloak. Underneath was just Luke, looking as he always looked, hair mussed up and beginning to drift across his face, slightly breathless from the poor air, and a smile of apology in his eyes for the discomfort he'd caused Han.

"I was waiting for you," Luke said.

"Yeah." Without any further thought, Han placed his hands on either side of Luke's face and kissed him, ignoring the rasp in his chest that demanded he let his breathing return to normal first.

He didn't want to let go. Didn't want to return to second-guessing what might've gone on in Luke's mind these past few days by covertly examining every nuance of Luke's behavior. And it was tempting to take Luke's obvious enthusiasm for kissing him back to have some longer-term significance. 

He pulled away reluctantly, tracing the outline of Luke's jaw with his fingertips, and answered Luke's question before he could ask it. "I had to see you. I've got things to say."

Some vague voice in the back of his mind told him that everything he'd planned in advance had already strayed off course, but Luke's ensuing comment spared him the inevitable scrabbling around for the right words.

"Don't say them now. Tell me when we're away from this place. And I need to speak to you too."

It was what he'd been expecting. Luke's decision, one way or the other... "Something's happened hasn't it?" Han crushed the disquiet in his voice. If he had to argue this out with Luke, he'd make damned sure he kept his own desires as just one part of his case, and not let them cloud the issue with all their attendant emotions.

"Yes, something's happened. It's made me see things differently."

"So you've decided then? About the future?"

Luke looked back at him for a long moment. "I know what I should try to do."

"But is it the same as what you _want_ to do?"

A slow smile spread across Luke's face. "Yeah. But if it's gonna make any sense to you, I'll have to start from the beginning." He put his hand on Han's arm, pulled him back towards the archway. "Come on, I want to show you something." 

Luke stopped for a moment just before re-entering the cave. "The air's not so good in here."

"You don't say."

"You need to breathe as evenly as you can. You'll get used to it after a while."

"Great," Han muttered.

Listening to Luke explain what the carvings depicted, and studying the images that mirrored each other in intent and composition, Han began to see things differently too. Before meeting Luke, the Force had been an abstract and never entirely understood concept to Han. It was something he'd heard about in stories told across the galaxy, but had never knowingly encountered. He'd always been inclined to dismiss it as a myth. His growing awareness of all the facets that made Luke into the person he was had led to Han's belief in the existence of the Force, but not to a realization of its scope. His experiences with Vader had shown him the Force's ability to warp behavior if allowed to, but Vader had been unique. Han had seen him as an isolated individual with a propensity for cruelty, and not as one element in a far greater scheme.

But now Han was beginning to understand the ties that bound Luke to the Force. Here was something that, for thousands of years, had motivated those who could access it to believe in a chain of destiny. Luke had always been aware of the hold the Force had in shaping the future, but its true powers had never struck Han as strongly as they did now. He gazed at the carvings, with their predestined rituals of death and greed, with something like dismay, because they brought home the full weight of Luke's burden of choice. Luke hadn't only been battling with the specters of Vader and the Emperor, but with thousands of years of Sith history – the repercussions of wrong choices laid out with chilling inevitability.

It was far from the whole story, but it was enough for Han to recognize how Luke might see his own hopes and desires as insignificant in the overall picture presented. Han had come here wanting to persuade Luke that staying was the answer, but his argument had its roots in the obvious distinctions between Luke and his father. He hadn't anticipated having to counteract such historical evidence, but even so, he wasn't letting Luke go without a fight. 

Yet for someone who might have decided leaving was the answer to averting potential disaster, Luke seemed surprisingly content. No, more than content, he seemed happy. But that could easily have been the result of finally working his way through all the paradoxes he'd struggled to understand in his own life, and in the old ways of the Jedi. 

Han gestured to the carved walls. "All this stuff gives you an answer, doesn't it? Now you know where you stand." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undertone of uneasiness was impossible to disguise from Luke.

Luke turned round to look at him, his face yet again shadowy in the candlelight. There was the incongruity of Luke's smile again, faint glimmers of which Han caught in the flickering light.

"It gives a sort of answer, but not in the way you're thinking it does. The point is, there _is_ no real answer. At least, not one carved in stone. Not for Leia and me."

"I don't understand."

"There's another panel I haven't shown you yet. And I'm going to explain it all," Luke said. 

"Okay..."

Luke moved up close to Han, his fingers finding a hold on Han's arm. His eyes searched Han's face for the source of the disquiet Han had given away. "You think I'm going to leave?"

Han shrugged. "You've always told me it was a possibility. And now there's all this evidence..."

"This is Sith history. I'm not a part of this, and never will be. It _is_ evidence, but the thing it shows me most–" Luke cut his words off, glancing towards the cave entrance. "There isn't time to explain this now."

"Why not?"

"Someone's coming."

Han looked round at the cave entrance, frowning. "Who?"

"I don't know. Not someone I've met."

Luke moved towards the archway and, after a short delay, Han followed him. Moments later, there was the sound of booted feet shuffling their way down through the adjoining cavern. 

A frail and very elderly Polis Massan nodded her head slowly in greeting, as she completed her laborious progress towards them.

"Forgive me for intruding," she said. "At least I know I won't have startled you." She addressed her last comment to Luke, who returned her greeting with the customary bow of his head and a smile.

"No, you didn't startle us."

"Good. You see, I knew several Jedi in the days before the Empire. Those who used to come here. I'm aware of the Jedi ability to extend their senses beyond their immediate surroundings."

"Comes in handy sometimes," Han put in. 

"General Han Solo." The Polis Massan inclined her head yet again. "Your reputation has reached even these remote parts."

Han grinned. "Always good to know. That way, people know what to expect."

"Assuming you believe everything you hear. I'm Tiriss-elain, by the way. Perek-tain told me where I might find you."

"You're Perek-tain's predecessor?" Luke asked. "She's talked about you. I hadn't realized..." he tailed off apologetically.

"That I was capable of making it down this far?" Tiriss-elain finished for him, mild amusement evident in the depths of her dark eyes. "Every now and then I try to make the effort. You gave me a good excuse this time."

"I was hoping there'd be a chance to meet you," Luke said. "But we could've come to find you."

"But it wouldn't have been the same would it? If I'm going to explain things to you, it's better if the evidence is there before our eyes."

"Explain what? About those who made the carvings?" Han asked.

"In a way. But I think you already know about them." She waved her hand in the direction of the final cave, and directed her gaze on Luke. "It's the last panel that concerns you the most isn't it? And there are things you've understood about it that I never knew. But I can tell you more than that. I can tell you what it meant to the Jedi."

Luke nodded slowly. "The name they gave the cave..."

"Yes," Tiriss-elain said. "You'll want to know why they called it that." She pointed to a low, carved stone bench on the other side of the cave. "I need to sit down."

Tiriss-elain hobbled across to the bench and settled herself down on it with obvious relief. She held a hand out, gesturing for Luke and Han to join her. "Come on. Let me tell you about the Prophecy." 


	20. Chapter 20

"What prophecy?" Han asked. 

It was a concept that Han struggled with, particularly if it had any connection to the old Jedi order. Prophecies, along with a belief that destiny determined the course of someone's life, were likely to tie in to a future that would take Luke away from him. But then others had tried to define Luke's destiny to Luke in the past and had failed badly. The Emperor had been a notable example.

Tiriss-elain focussed on Han. "You don't believe in prophecies?"

Han shrugged. "People can twist anything to fit if they talk 'emselves into it."

Tiriss-elain nodded. "A prophecy can become self-fulfilling simply by the actions of those who believe it to be inescapable."

"Or those who try to change things in order to avoid it," Luke added.

Han got up from the stone bench, torn between wanting to listen and wanting to block off a conversation that looked likely to lead to nowhere but a dead end. If it was all going to come down to a decision based on the implications of ignoring some ancient prediction, then he'd lost before he'd had a chance to start. There was no logic to counteract that kind of theory. He paced across the width of the cavern and half-way back again, stopping beside the semi-concealed entrance to the final cave. He could feel the chill air from here. It brushed against his thigh and made him shiver.

"Is the prophecy shown in the last carving?" Luke asked.

"The Jedi believed it was."

"What about the Sith?" The slightest hint of challenge in Luke's voice caught Han's attention. He looked on curiously, wondering what had prompted it.

Tiriss-elain didn't answer immediately. She gazed away towards the far end of the cave, seemingly deep in thought.

"We don't know for certain what form the Eellayin association with the Sith took," she said at last. "But it seems clear to me – as it did to our Jedi visitors – that these predictions stemmed from a use of the Force that was not quite as it should have been."

"So the Sith came to Polis Massa?"

Again, she hesitated. "I feel sure they must have. How else could the Eellayin have learned how to see the future with such accuracy?"

"But Perek-tain knew nothing about the Sith links. I startled her when I mentioned it – though obviously I didn't know for sure," Luke explained. "I know very little about the Sith myself." 

Although careful to avoid any tone of accusation, the inference of Luke's remark was clear. It also gave Han an explanation for that trace of confrontation. Tiriss-elain had been aware of the links to the Sith, but it looked as though she'd withheld that information from her colleagues. If so, it was an act that went far beyond the omission of minor details. 

Tiriss-elain nodded, and her next words confirmed that she'd understood what Luke was really asking. "You're wondering how our research can be valid if we leave out facts that don't appeal to us." 

"No... I mean, you must have a good reason for that. And this is just a small part of the Eellayin history anyway," Luke said. "But–"

"You're curious as to why I kept it to myself, and I don't blame you. The reasons are complicated, but primarily it was because the Jedi wished it that way. I promised them not to allude to the Sith connection."

She shifted awkwardly on the hard bench, but whether it was due to the lack of physical comfort or to something less tangible wasn't clear. "It's a promise I've kept – even after I thought there _were_ no more Jedi. Obviously, when I learned about your visit and talked to Perek-tain, I realized the time for openness had arrived."

"Why did the Jedi want you to keep quiet?" Han asked.

Tiriss-elain looked over to him. "The Jedi feared the Dark Side of the Force. It's been a guiding influence on the Jedi way of life for thousands of years. To study these carvings in full, it's necessary to gain some understanding of the nature of the Dark Side, and that was a route the Jedi refused to take. And nor did they want anyone else to take it – the ability to foresee the future would be a huge temptation for some."

"But they _did_ study the carvings," Luke said. 

"Yes, but you can study something and at the same time never really _see_ it. It's true that the cave held a particular fascination for the Jedi."

"'Cause it shows what happens if you make the wrong decisions?" Han asked.

"In part, that was certainly the case. Recognizing the reasons for the dictates of their Code was important to them. But it was the prophecy that drew them in. Paradoxically, it was also the prophecy that gave rise to their caution. If they studied the ways of the Sith to comprehend how it came about then they would be close to adopting Sith practices as their own, thus guaranteeing the cycle of destruction would remain unbroken."

Han rubbed a hand across his face, confusion taking equal place alongside frustration. "Is someone gonna explain this properly to me, 'cause I'm not sure I understand what you're saying. If it was a Sith prophecy, why would the Jedi want to make it happen?"

"Because it predicts the end of the Sith," Luke said.

Han frowned. "Why would the Sith record that?"

"Don't forget – we're talking about Eellayin carvings here," Tiriss-elain pointed out. "These were not created by the Sith themselves, but by those who adhered to an aspect of Sith teachings. But destiny is a strange thing, if you believe in it. The Sith appeared to, but it wouldn't have stopped them from trying to avert the prophecy, presuming they knew about it. It's strange to think that the Sith would've shunned the prophecy, just as the Jedi espoused it, even though it stemmed from Dark Side use of the Force."

"Because it worked in their favor," Luke said. "If the Jedi wanted to believe in something, the end of the Sith is an obvious choice."

"Yes, but the prophecy isn't specifically about that," Tiriss-elain said. "I've been studying these carvings for over a hundred years, and Jedi have visited these caverns for many centuries before that. The first visitors believed the Sith were _already_ extinct. It's only in the last few decades that the Sith re-emerged."

Luke frowned. "But the carving shows the death of a Sith Lord. The Jedi must've assumed it was referring to the future if they treated it as prophecy. Didn't it prove that the Sith were still around?"

"That's looking at it with hindsight. If you saw this panel in ignorance of recent events, would you think you were looking at a scene from Jedi life or from Sith life?"

"I don't know," Luke admitted. "There's no sense of evil there, like in the other panels. But it comes at the end of a cycle of what must be Sith masters and apprentices, so it makes sense that it follows on. But I suppose it was impossible to have known what it was showing before the events occurred."

"Wait a minute." Han pulled away from the archway and looked at Tiriss-elain. "You said that Luke's looking at it with hindsight. The prophecy's actually happened?"

"Haven't you seen the panel?" Tiriss-elain asked him, surprise in her voice.

"I've only just got here. Luke was gonna show me just before you arrived."

"Then I think you should see it before I say any more, or nothing will make any sense to you."

Han didn't bother to state the obvious – namely that nothing was making any sense anyway. The only thing Tiriss-elain had succeeded in doing so far was reinforcing Han's notion that the Jedi of the past had placed too much credence on arcane theories and not enough emphasis on what had actually been going on around them.

He walked back over to the bench and offered a hand to Tiriss-elain. The elderly Polis Massan hauled herself up with agonizing slowness, one long-fingered hand wrapped around Han's wrist, and the other on Luke's upper arm. She felt light, almost insubstantial, compared to the weight of an average human and, this close to her, Han could see the lines of age etched on her thickened skin.

"I apologize for the poor air quality here," she said, as they reached the cave entrance. "You've probably guessed that it's partly deliberate."

"Keep everyone out, huh?" Han asked. He concentrated on keeping his breathing level, feeling the slight burn in his chest and the odd dizziness he'd experienced before. 

The candle Luke had lit earlier was still burning, stealing a share of the cave's oxygen, but proving there was at least some circulation taking place. Luke walked over to it and picked it up, sending dancing shadows across the rocky surfaces.

The final panel proved to be to the side of the entrance, and Han realized why he'd not noticed it before. It was set down lower than the other panels, presumably by intent. They gathered in front of it, both he and Luke needing to crouch down to study it properly. Luke held the candle up to the carving, staying silent so that Han could read the images for himself.

It was the contrast to the other carvings that struck Han first. It had an air of peace about it, and something like celebration. It wasn't the right word for it though, because that brought to mind triumph, and there was no sense of that in the face of the Jedi depicted. It showed death and victory, just as the other carvings did, but it felt to Han as though it symbolized something much more extensive than the defeat of an enemy. He could see how it could easily be read to represent the extinction of the Sith, but he was certain there was more to it than that. 

He twisted round, holding his hand out for the candle that Luke still held. Then he passed the flame slowly in front of the chiseled face, and let the light illuminate the detail of the items held in the outstretched hands. There were two of them, almost identical in decoration but for one individual marking on each and a lack of symmetry in the toothed top edges. He studied them for a moment or two longer, before pulling back a little to see the whole scene. The twin suns, so worn that they'd almost blended into the natural rock surface, were the last thing he noticed.

He pivoted slowly around to stare at Luke, feeling the shock of recognition change to a wash of feeling that swept across his whole body. It was a strange sensation, because it should have felt impossible to feel both understanding and a total lack of comprehension at the same time. He stayed that way, holding Luke's gaze, until Tiriss-elain broke the silence.

"Towards the end of the Republic the Jedi accepted that the Sith were still in existence. They fell back on their original interpretation of the prophecy – that the means of its enactment was the elimination of the Sith. Before that, it had become little more than a quaint story."

"Can you tell us everything you know about it now?" Luke asked.

Tiriss-elain nodded, and pointed to the candle flame. Its blue heart had begun to spread upwards under the smothering mantle of poor air. "It's time to move out of here. The three of us together, it's too much..."

She didn't need to finish, and it was relief to move back once more into the larger cavern. The three of them stood for a while, acclimatizing, and letting the warmth seep back into their bodies. 

They made their way to the stone bench again, now strangely luxurious after the discomforts of the cave. Tiriss-elain wound her fingers around Luke's arm and eased herself down onto it, leaning her head back against the cave wall. Han wondered how old she was, and how much longer she might live.

"The Eellayin civilization stretches back thousands of years – back to the days when this field of spinning rocks was once a true planet. All we have are fragments. Remnants of a past life. I cannot say, and the Jedi couldn't say, if the prophecy originated here, or whether this is but one representation of it. I do know that the Jedi have been drawn to this world for millennia." She glanced at Luke. "And still they're coming back."

"For a different reason," Luke said. "I had no idea..."

Luke's words tailed off, and Han studied him. Luke had said several times that he believed there was more to his assignment than Senator Danu was acknowledging. For someone once so close to the old Jedi Council, was it possible that Danu had known of the prophecy? 

"According to the Jedi, there were two threads that wove together to form the prophecy," Tiriss-elain explained. "An ancient story, its origins lost long ago, was one of them. The story foretold of a time of great darkness in the galaxy, and an ending to all the freedoms that we value so highly. But from that time there would also emerge a redeemer, who would bring an end to the darkness."

Tiriss-elain looked again at Luke. "Of course, the Jedi believed that the legend was referring to a final confrontation between the Jedi and the Sith, each upholding opposing sides of the Force. But there are other, more literal ways, to portray the ending of darkness. What could be more symbolic for a bringer of light than an association with the sun? And the ancient legend referred to the Son of the Suns. It's easy to see why the Jedi adopted the story as their own."

She paused for a moment as though gathering her thoughts, and Han exchanged a swift look with Luke. Tiriss-elain had stated that it was time for openness, but how far Luke would choose to take that was another matter. The words that Tiriss-elain had spoken just after meeting them implied that Luke had already made a more specific comment about the carving. _There are things you've understood about it that I never knew..._

"What was the other thread?" Luke asked. Han could hear the subtle tension underpinning Luke's question, and knew that a similar feeling was running through his own body. He moved his shoulders, easing the tightness that probably wouldn't disappear completely until he knew just where he stood. And where Luke stood.

"The Jedi were aware that an imbalance existed in the Force, and the future and stability of the galaxy were at stake if that disparity was not redressed. The prophecy tells of one who would restore balance to the Force." 

Tiriss-elain seemed to catch Han's eye, and Han wondered if something showed on his face. The Polis Massan's words had recalled his last conversation with Leia, and the strange sensation of imbalance she'd referred to – _...feels likes something's out of step. Sort of... unbalanced..._ And it had a connection to Luke, and to the Force...

"The Jedi visitors referred to the Chosen One," Tiriss-elain continued. "They believed the carving depicted the final act needed to bring balance back, and they interpreted that to mean the extermination of the Sith. The strong parallels the carving has to aspects of the ancient story of the Son of the Suns are obvious. That, together with the Eellayin ability to foretell events, strengthened the Jedi's insistence that the panel showed a genuine prophecy."

She struggled to rise, and Han stood up quickly in order to help. Luke already had a hand under her elbow, and Han watched as he lifted Tiriss-elain up from the bench. She hobbled across to one of the carved panels that adorned the side of the cave and ran her fingers across the smooth edges. It showed another world and a different species, neither of which were familiar to Han. 

"Of course, we think they're all prophecies, in a way. Every carving in every cave. Even those we don't yet understand, like this one." She gestured to the panel beside her. "But arriving at the correct meaning of a symbol is difficult if those who created it are no longer around to ask. All we have are opinions, and the Jedi didn't get it right."

"You mean they misinterpreted it?" Luke asked.

Tiriss-elain turned to look at him, leaving one hand held against the carving. It may have been simply for balance, but it looked to Han as though she was drawing comfort from the touch.

"Towards the end of their time, the Jedi believed they'd found the one the Prophecy speaks of. I had a visitor, over thirty-five years or so back. A Jedi. He was grieving – almost wrenched apart by it and fighting an inner battle with himself to conquer those feelings. They contradicted the Code, you see. He wanted to see the Cave of the Prophecy for himself. The reason he gave me was that he was trying to honor a promise he'd made, and which might ensure that the prophecy ran its proper course. But I could see that he was conflicted. Unsure not only of the course he should be taking, but of the consequences of his promise."

She stroked the palm of her hand down the stone, almost as if she could feel the presence of those who'd generated the visions that lined the walls. "The Jedi had found a child. A slave. Extraordinarily strong in the Force, and the circumstances of his birth as mysterious as any myth could ever recount. They found him in world with two suns and took him away with them. They called him the Chosen One."

The Polis Massan turned her head to look back at the wall, tracing a fingerpad along the outline of a strange, winged creature that formed part of the sculpture. She kept her back to Han and Luke as she spoke. "But their Chosen One failed to fulfill the prophecy, and the one who'd kept that promise believed the prophecy was a trick, plotted to lead to the fall of the Jedi and the triumph of the Sith. And at the time, I wondered if he was right. I never saw him again after that. In time, I learned that all the Jedi had died and that it was the _Sith_ who returned balance to the Force by turning on themselves. Destiny proving itself once more to be inescapable – one Sith destroying another, as it's always been, but in doing so destroying himself. It was a Sith prophecy all along."

Tiriss-elain pulled away from the wall and looked hard at Luke. "But now you're here, and you tell a different story."

Luke stared back at her. "What I told Perek-tain was true. Darth Vader _did_ kill the Emperor, but he killed him as a Jedi, not as a Sith."

Luke sought Han's eyes, and Han understood that it was no longer possible to keep the full story concealed. Not here in these caves, where something in the atmosphere seemed to demand the truth.

"Not all the Jedi died during the purge," Luke continued. "One of the survivors joined the Emperor. He'd trained as a Jedi, but something happened to make him change. He took on a new identity and became Darth Vader. His Jedi side never fully disappeared, and it was _that_ part of him that killed the Emperor."

"This Jedi... Do you know where he came from?"

"Not originally. But he spent his childhood on a planet called Tatooine. It's a desert world in the Outer Rim. A world with two suns."

It was a long moment before Tiriss-elain spoke. "Then the prophecy was true. The Jedi were right all along. It _was_ about destroying the Sith."

The feeling that had crept up on Han when he'd crouched in front of the ancient carving had strengthened as Tiriss-elain spoke. He was certain that there was more to the prophecy than a straightforward victory of good over evil. It was _too_ straightforward. Too cut-and-dried to feel right. It also struck him how bizarre it was that he was standing in this cave puzzling over the complexities of ancient Jedi philosophy, and failing to see the logic of the prophecy as seen from the Jedi point of view. It was a long way from his area of expertise, but something remained that they needed to consider, and it was all to do with the issue of balance. 

He started slowly, trying to organize his thoughts in a way that might uncover the underlying cause of his uncertainty. "I'm just wondering why the Jedi thought that restoring balance to the Force meant destroying the Sith. I mean, I can see why they wanted to get rid of 'em..." 

Tiriss-elain turned her attention to Han. "I'm sure the answer to that was clear to the Jedi. I'm not so sure it's clear to me," she admitted.

"The way I see it," Han carried on, "is if you have two sides standing for opposite things, and one of them destroys the other, you're not gonna end up with a balanced view of anything. There's gotta be a way to meet in the middle."

Tiriss-elain nodded slowly. "I also wonder why the Jedi felt the Force was out of balance during the time they believed the Sith to be extinct."

"Because it was," Luke said. "I think they could feel the imbalance, but they didn't know why it was there. They'd moved so far to the side of good that they'd isolated themselves from everything at the heart of the Force. It's like Han said – there was no meeting in the middle. But there _has_ to be, otherwise there are just extremes with nothing in between. When the Sith re-emerged and the Jedi had found their chosen one, it was too late for them. They couldn't recognize what'd happened to them and they associated the imbalance with the Sith, even though it was just as much their own actions that'd contributed to it. I don't think they understood that the prophecy predicted their own end too."

"So it foresaw an end to the Sith _and_ the Jedi?"

"Because they both represented extremes," Luke said. "If one or other gained total control, there couldn't be any balance."

"And neither side understood that," Tiriss-elain mused. "However much each side tried to use or manipulate the prophecy, it would never have been fulfilled while they practiced absolutes of behavior. The Chosen One was destined to restore balance by wiping the slate clean, so to speak."

"I still don't think that's the whole story," Han said. He fielded the others' quizzical looks with a brief shrug. "You're talking about getting rid of things to bring balance, but what about what takes its place?"

He glanced over at Luke to find Luke's eyes on him. But if Han had expected to see wariness on Luke's face, or even skepticism, he found neither. Instead, Luke's expression revealed that barely-disguised aura of happiness that Han had noted earlier on. It wasn't that it was blatant, and it had more to do with what Han would describe as peacefulness than jubilation, but it had chased away Luke's former, troubled misgivings. And the look Luke returned Han signified full acceptance of whatever Han wanted to reveal. 

That was the whole crux of the matter, because as far as Han was concerned, the full significance of the prophecy was too obvious to dismiss. The only reason Tiriss-elain hadn't seen it was because she wasn't in full possession of the facts.

"Those objects in Vader's hands..." he started.

Tiriss-elain inclined her head. "The ekuila. The Eellayin symbol for new life. In the manner of its depiction we have the very nature of the prophecy. I believe the sculptor split the ekuila into two perfect halves in order to symbolize the balance that the Chosen One delivers. A new beginning, but one in harmony with the Force."

"The ekuila stands for new life?"

"Yes. The Eellayin used that symbol regularly, but normally it's associated with birth in a physical sense. The Jedi assumed it implied a metaphorical rebirth of the Force – the balance if you like. But because of what I've learned from Luke, there might be a parallel interpretation. This rebirth may also refer to the experience of Darth Vader – even though he died he was, in a sense, reborn as a Jedi first."

"But what if it meant _actual_ birth?" Han asked.

"A child? But that would've been impossible."

"Not impossible," Luke said. "It may have been forbidden."

Tiriss-elain nodded. "Such an explanation never occurred to the Jedi, which goes some way in explaining how committed they were to their Code."

"The Code was broken," Luke said, and Han was amazed at how calm he sounded. "It was broken twenty-five years ago by a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker."

A notable stillness fell over Tiriss-elain, and she studied Luke with her unfathomable, dark eyes for several long moments.

"Anakin Skywalker." She repeated the name slowly. "And you...?" Tiriss-elain put a hand up to her face, covering it for a moment as though trying to disguise emotions that neither Han nor Luke could see.

When she lowered her hand, her eyes fastened again on Luke's face. "Dear gods, it's _you_. The ekuila symbolizes you. _You're Darth Vader's son._ "

Luke nodded, staying silent. 

"Then... the prophecy..."

"Predicted that Anakin Skywalker would bring balance to the Force," Han said. "And he did. He brought Luke."

Tiriss-elain still hadn't taken her eyes off Luke. When she spoke, it was so quietly that it was almost a whisper. " _You're_ the balance. In you, the Force is once again as it should be."

Luke caught and held Han's gaze, and Han knew that Luke had decided to take this as far as he could. He also knew why. Secrecy and subterfuge came with a price, and Luke had been paying it for too long already. He grinned back at Luke, waiting for him to add the final piece of the puzzle.

"I'm not the only one," Luke said. "Just like the ekuila, I'm one half of a whole."


	21. Chapter 21

"Y'know, everything about this place is weird, 'n I'm not just talkin' about the gravity and the oxygen supply," Han said, "though they're pretty screwed up too."

"Maybe the Polis Massans think we're the weirdest things here," Luke pointed out.

"It's the whole atmosphere. They're totally isolated, but no-one wants to change that."

"I get the feeling they're divided on that now. Contacting the Alliance must mean something more than just sharing research. I think they want to open up a bit more, but it'll take time. It'll change everything they're used to."

"It's odd, 'cause they're studying people who were obsessed with the future, but they do the opposite. Feels like everything's stuck in the past. I don't get how anyone can wanna live here day after day."

"They're searching for their roots. I guess it's taken over everything else."

"They really think their roots are here? With the Eellayin?"

Luke shrugged. "They haven't got any proof yet but they're determined to find it. It's one of the things their medical researchers are hoping to discover."

"A genetic link?"

"Something like that."

They glanced at each other before walking on in silence. They were making their way back through the inner transparisteel tunnels of the settlement hub, but their progress was more-or-less aimless. It felt good to be away from the claustrophobic strangeness of the caves and to stand back, just for a short while, from all the complications and confusion of the past hour. 

It had been too much to take in, and even now Han had no real idea just where it was going to lead. He wanted to lie down, close his eyes and think of nothing for a very long time. Then maybe when he resurfaced he'd find it easier to understand. He felt like saying this to Luke, but there was a danger Luke would misunderstand. That Luke would reproach himself for piling all his problems on Han's shoulders. It wasn't like that at all. He just wished Luke could walk away from all this and live his life without having to examine the meaning of his existence every step of the way.

Also, Han didn't know where to start with all the questions he had. Apart from the revelations in the cave there were other issues involved. Senator Danu had hinted that something specific had happened here, but Han didn't think he was talking about the caves. And just what was it that Luke had done to kick-start, by accident, an agreement between the Alliance and Polis Massa? 

Beside him, Luke seemed content just walking, even though he must have questions of his own. But the tunnel was busy and they had to keep stepping aside for groups of miners to pass. It would've been impossible to talk about anything meaningful there, even if they'd wanted to. Han wondered how Tiriss-elain was dealing with the new information. After all her years of research, she'd come across the answers almost by chance, and they'd thrown all her previous hypotheses into a different light.

They'd helped the frail Polis Massan back through the chain of caverns and left her in the care of Perek-tain. Tiriss-elain had maintained a thoughtful silence during the slow walk back, but just before they'd neared the plascrete hut she'd slowed her steps to a virtual standstill.

"We still have much to discuss," she'd said, "but for now, I think we all have enough to think about." She'd stopped and stood still for several moments, as if she'd been gathering the strength to speak again. "It's strange, because for the first time everything is beginning to make sense." 

Then she'd turned her deep-set eyes on Luke. "Whether they do to you is another matter. The situation can't have been easy for you."

"It's not easy for him _now_ ," Han had said, before Luke could answer. "Only a few people know about Vader's identity. We've gotta be careful."

Tiriss-elain had wrapped her fingers around Han's hand and exerted the slightest pressure in reassurance. "I understand that. Everything you've told me will remain between the three of us until you instruct me otherwise. I know you're facing a difficult dilemma. I hope that time resolves it for you."

"Dunno how much more time we've got. Things have a nasty habit of gettin' out just when you least expect it."

Tiriss-elain had nodded. "I wish I could say that the galaxy will appreciate its good fortune in having another Jedi, and will take no account of past activities. But we all know how easily allegiances can change." 

 

Now, Luke pushed his sleeve back to check his chrono. "I've got to meet Senator Danu in an hour."

"Want me to come along?" Han asked.

"It'll be boring diplomatic stuff. The terms of an alliance, if it gets that far."

"What – you're tellin' me I can't be diplomatic?"

Luke laughed. "Not exactly, but now you mention it... Anyway it'll be more interesting later on. There's another formal meal and I'm sure Que-raik will be hoping you'll go to it."

Han pulled a face. "Do they serve real drinks, or is it more of that green stuff?"

"Said very diplomatically, of course."

"Sometimes you've just gotta be honest. Mind you, it's weird enough for you to like it. 'Cept it's probably not hazardous enough."

Luke stopped and looked at Han, puzzled amusement in his eyes. "I haven't got a clue what point you're trying to make, if there even is one."

"That's 'cause you don't see anythin' odd about walking into situations that'd have most people running in the opposite direction."

"So when you decided to run _towards_ those stormtroopers on the Death Star, that didn't count as insane I suppose?"

"If it'd been down to me, we wouldn't have been _on_ the stupid thing in the first place."

"And you'd still have been living that trouble-free life."

"That's right."

Luke threw him a grin. "And you're always accusing me of being delusional! Still, if it keeps you happy."

"What'd keep me happy right now is finding a bar and getting a drink. All that mumbo jumbo's done my head in." Han glanced around in the hopes of spotting somewhere, but there was very little to see. The smooth transparent walls of the corridor looked out across closed-off, anonymous-looking suites of rooms and further encircling corridors, some of them usable only with breath masks. Every now and then Han glimpsed the dense asteroid belt surrounding them.

"There aren't any," Luke said. "They've got stores of food and drink for human visitors, but they don't use it themselves. I suppose there aren't enough visitors here to bother with a bar."

"I s'ppose not." It made sense. Polis Massa was essentially a closed-off community with little to attract outsiders. Those that did come probably didn't have socializing on the agenda. "So what now? You _are_ gonna tell me everything aren't you?" 

Luke slowed down to look at him. "Are you staying here tonight? Did they give you a room?"

Han nodded. "I'm not rushing off anywhere. The Administrator's gonna sort a room out." Luke had done his usual trick of answering one of Han's questions with more of his own, but Han had gone past the stage of backing off. Wasn't that his whole reason for being here? "So there's plenty of time for you to talk to me," he added.

"That's why I was asking. I wasn't trying to avoid your question."

"Ever thought about giving a straight yes or no answer sometimes?"

"Yes." Luke grinned at him. "I mean, I've thought about it."

"Great."

They'd reached a halt for the repulsor cars that traversed the colony's passages. Just beyond it a doorway led into an oval room subdivided into clusters of seating units. Han glanced into it with curiosity. It was half full of off-duty miners still wearing their heavy boot covers. Discarded oxygen helmets and tool belts covered many of the unoccupied seats. It seemed to be a communal area of some sort, but any conversing that was going on was taking place in near silence. Han caught faint hints of the soft, undulating sounds he'd heard on the journey down into the caves. For some reason it reminded him of the training sessions Luke and Leia had through the Force, and he turned to Luke with a quizzical frown.

"They're talkin' in there?"

Luke nodded. "Using telepathy."

"They can read each other's minds?"

"I don't think it's as strong as that, but it's a form of conversation."

"But they used standard speech with us."

"Senator Danu explained that to me. They have a way of being able to project speech outwards when they want to."

"Handy for us then. Or maybe you understand the silent stuff?"

Luke shook his head. "No. Even if I could follow the language I couldn't join in. It's unique to them. It's not like using the Force."

"What about the other way round?"

"D'you mean do they know what _we're_ thinking?"

At Han's nod, Luke carried on. "I don't think so. They might be able to pick up signals – moods and stuff."

"Just as well, 'cause they wouldn't make any sense outta what's in my mind right now." 

 

They boarded a transport and made their way back to the corridor that housed Luke's room. Artoo beeped with disapproval over the length of time Luke had been gone.

Han rolled his eyes at Luke's attempt to appease the droid. "He's gotta learn to let you out of his sight y'know."

"I know that," Luke said. "He _was_ getting better on Arudin, but now he's gone right back to how he was just after Endor."

"Maybe the place gives him the creeps too."

Luke glanced back round at him. "Why d'you say that? I know you think it's strange, but I didn't realize you felt that strongly."

"I dunno," Han shrugged. "It feels all wrong. Ain't surprising when you think about it though."

"No, it isn't." Luke hesitated. "It's not the place Artoo has problems with. It's his memories." 

"Huh?"

Luke stood up, giving Artoo one last pat on his dome. "This isn't his first visit here."

"He's been here before? Not with you, obviously."

"Yes, he came with me – sort of."

Han moved across and put his hands on Luke's shoulders. "What are you talking about? This is your first trip here."

"It was years ago."

There was an idea forming in the back of his mind, but Han couldn't quite grasp it yet. "When we met you'd never been off Tatooine," he objected.

"I wasn't born on Tatooine though."

Han stared at him. "You..." He took one of his hands off Luke's shoulders, rubbed it across his face. " _Here_?"

Luke nodded. "There were always too many coincidences. Artoo being on an Alderaanian ship. Him knowing where to find me on Tatooine. Telling me about Leia's presence on the Death Star. His agitation in Cloud City. His strange behavior after Endor. I couldn't work it out. It was like he knew things, but I didn't know how he _could_ know them."

Han was barely listening to Luke, still trying to comprehend what he'd just heard. "Artoo was at your birth?"

"Yes. But I think Artoo's seen a lot more than that. I think he's frightened of history repeating itself. I think he's already lost one person to the Emperor."

" _Vader_?"

"It explains a lot."

"It's crazy."

"I know." 

"And... your mother? D'you know any more? Anything definite?"

"No," Luke said. "But there are other things I know." Luke glanced across at Artoo, who'd moved to the far side of the room. It looked like the conversation was making the droid uncomfortable. His dome was rotating slowly, several lights blinking in rhythmic succession. "He saw her die," Luke murmured. "It's no wonder it's hard for him."

Luke's comlink gave a short beep and he glanced at it in frustration. "Every time we have a chance to talk we get interrupted."

Han gave him a sympathetic smile and wandered across to sit on the bed, watching Luke as he spoke. Coincidences were one thing, but this was something way beyond a series of flukes. He didn't think he'd bother trying to work out what it was instead – for the sake of his sanity he reckoned he was better off just accepting it. In a way, it figured that Luke had been born here. It was another one of those extremes. Besides, anybody who had Darth Vader as a father had a strong chance of being born somewhere totally off the wall.

"That was Danu. They're running late so I've got an extra half hour," Luke explained. "I guess I'd better try and look presentable as it's supposed to be a formal meeting." As he spoke he shrugged off his cloak and flung it onto the nearest surface. Brushed at the coating of dust that'd settled on his clothes from the caves. His efforts didn't make much difference. All he succeeded in doing was redistributing the dust. 

"Yeah, looks a lot better," Han commented.

"Very funny." Luke spent a few moments fumbling with his weapons belt, before giving out a short exclamation of impatience.

"What's the matter with your hand?" Han asked, isolating the root cause of Luke's clumsiness.

"Nothing."

Han stood up. "Well it ain't _nothing_ , 'cause you wouldn't be losing your temper like that if it was." He unfastened the buckle for Luke, and placed the weapons belt on top of the discarded cloak. "Tell me."

"Sheni-dain – the cloning scientist – wanted to look at it. I think she's altered one of the circuits. Whenever I try doing something quickly my fingers won't work."

"Can't you change it back?"

"It's too fiddly."

Han moved back towards the bed, hauling Luke with him. "C'mon, I'll sort it out for you."

"I don't think–"

"Sit down," Han insisted.

Luke sat and held his hand out with something like resignation. Han grabbed it and rested it on his knee.

He spent a few moments fishing about in the pockets of his jacket before pulling out a tiny, flat-bladed tool. He held it up with some satisfaction.

"D'you come prepared for everything?" Luke asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm always prepared." Han grinned and leveled a significant look at Luke. "How 'bout you?" 

His remark had the effect of chasing away some of the strain he could see in Luke's face, which is what he'd hoped. He leaned over the hand, easing the edge of the blade into the almost invisible gap formed by the access cover. Moved the blade along until it triggered the release catch.

He studied the complex circuit board for a few moments. There were individual units for each finger, but it wasn't obvious which functions they controlled.

"It's the red ones," Luke volunteered.

The dials were tiny, made for a surgical droid's accuracy. He reached into his jacket again, locating the precision tools he used on the Falcon's electronics. It wasn't surprising that Sheni-dain hadn't got it right. The whole mechanism was so sensitive that overcompensation was unavoidable. It was a matter of time and concentration.

Han had wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Luke's fingers, and now he brushed his thumb across Luke's palm. "Tell me when it feels right," he said. "Gonna be trial and error at first."

He kept up the gentle pressure on Luke's palm and focused his attention on the circuits. At first, Han was conscious of Luke looking anywhere but at what Han was doing, but as the minutes passed he turned his head, watching him. Han felt the subtle change in demeanor that crept over Luke, and it touched him like warmth that seemed to flow over his skin and settle deep inside him.

When he realized that Luke's gaze had turned to more of a stare he broke off and looked at him. "What?"

Luke shook his head. "Nothing."

"You're usin' that word again."

Luke smiled. "It's just you. The way you are."

"What – charming, good looking, courageous?"

"I mean, it really matters to you, doesn't it?"

"All the bits of you matter to me."

"But it's the way you go about it. As if it was a genuine part of me."

"Last time I looked it was joined to your arm. Seems a reasonable assumption to make."

When Luke didn't reply Han resumed the adjustments, waiting for a murmur of assent from Luke before finishing. He slid the tools back into his pocket and closed the circuit cover. Meshed his fingers with Luke's and planted a kiss on the inside of Luke's wrist. Luke's start of surprise wasn't unexpected.

"Isn't that a bit like kissing a droid?" Luke asked.

"Nope. Last time I kissed Threepio it didn't feel anything like that."

"Idiot. But doesn't it put you off, even a bit?"

"It wouldn't put me off if you just had a hook," Han said. "Well, as long as you watched where you were puttin' it," he added.

Luke gave a quiet laugh. "You should be careful not to give me ideas." 

The laughter faded from Luke's face, replaced by a troubled preoccupation. Han waited, aware of the uneasiness and complexity of emotion generated by the hand.

"I know I haven't accepted it yet," Luke said at last. "It still feels strange. Like something that's ended up there by mistake."

Han enfolded Luke's hand in both of his. Circled his thumb against Luke's fingers. "It's gonna take time. You can't isolate the hand from all the other things that happened there 'cause Vader didn't do it just to harm you physically. He wanted to mess with your head. Cause some damage by playing with your mind."

"He certainly did that."

"He made you lose a lot more than your hand in Cloud City. And all the rest of it's linked with the injury in your memories." 

"He made me lose my naivety," Luke muttered, a dark shadow passing behind his eyes for a fleeting moment.

Han shook his head. "Not naivety. You didn't go there because you thought you could beat Vader. You went 'cause you wanted to help us. It ain't the same thing. It's more like he took your past. We all think we know who we are. When you discover things were nothing like you thought they were, it turns everything upside down."

"I suppose that's why I found it hard yesterday, in the cloning labs. Sheni-dain saw a piece of technology. I saw all the other stuff. Still, one good thing came out of it – they're more enthusiastic about an alliance now. It's one of their big projects."

"What is?" Han asked, realizing that he'd just discovered what Danu had been talking about earlier on.

"Medical reconstruction. They grow cloned skin to use for transplants and prosthetics. We're several steps ahead with neural integration. Combine the two and the end result is the perfect false hand. Or whatever."

"Luke–"

"Then all they'll need to do is sort out everyone's private hang-ups."

Han pushed aside the surge of annoyance that Luke's explanation had induced. Luke just hadn't had time to come to terms with all his experiences yet, and it was far too soon for him to end up at the center of a medical research project. The technical side of it should've come from the surgical droids. But the rest of him understood how it'd come about. Luke was here, and the droids weren't. And nobody was going to have considered that approaching Luke that way would cause any psychological discomfort. 

So instead of brooding about it he kissed Luke instead. Just a quick kiss on the lips, not wanting to distract Luke whilst he felt like talking. "You're not gonna have any private hang-ups from now on. Just shared ones," he stated.

The smile returned to Luke's eyes. "I just wish I could be more detached about it."

"It's just not in your nature. Ain't the answer anyway."

"So what is?"

"There isn't a straightforward one. Like I said before, everything's linked together. Once you get one thing sorted out in your head, everything else is gonna start coming together. It won't happen right away, but we'll get there sooner than you think."

Luke slid a hand around Han's neck and Han saw that the new-found contentment Luke had exhibited in the cave was still there. Luke's recollection of Bespin had tempered it, just a little, but it remained the predominant, visible emotion.

"I've already started sorting things out in my head," he said, pushing his fingertips into the hair at Han's nape. "There's so much I need to tell you."

"I wanna tell you a few things too. There never seems to be any time."

"I know. And I'll have to go soon." 

Han moved a hand to frame Luke's jaw, pulled him closer and into another kiss. It took him a lot longer this time to pull away. He left his hand in place, keeping Luke as close as possible.

"Before you go, there's just one thing I need to know. Maybe you can't answer it, but I've gotta ask."

"Go on."

"You said the carvings have given you an answer, and you know what you're gonna do."

"Not _just_ the carvings, but yes."

"Even after hearing about everything else – the prophecy, the balance, the Jedi stories – I still don't know what that means. I don't know if you're gonna stay or go." 

Luke may have been about to reply, but Han silenced him with another swift kiss. "And I know I told you'd I'd never push you. That whatever you chose I'd accept. But I've been doin' a lot of thinking since then, and I'm gonna have to put my side of it," he continued.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been difficult over this," Luke said. "Until I came here it really wasn't clear to me. It's never been about wanting to leave."

"Hey – I know all that. You don't have to justify it. I just wanna know. You can use a simple yes or no if you like."

Luke's face broke into a smile that was as close to radiant as Han had ever seen. "Yes," he said.

Han grinned, despite the fact he was no closer to knowing the answer. But twice in under an hour was pretty good going. "Is that yes to staying or yes to leaving?"

"I told you back in the caverns that what I'd decided to do was the same as what I wanted to do. So what do _you_ think?"

"You don't believe in one-word answers do you?" Han complained. "What _I_ think is that you'd better not tell me you're gonna leave after I've gone to all this trouble just to get _any_ sorta answer out of you."

"Then it's a good job I'm not about to tell you that," Luke said.

"Good." Han knew he was sitting there with what was probably a stupid expression on his face, but he couldn't do much about it. The truth was, he didn't quite trust himself to speak. Or move. He hadn't realized just how far the tension had built up inside him, or how close it'd come to spilling over. Now it'd turned to something like wild exhilaration, which threatened to be equally unmanageable.

Luke had seen it of course. Han knew that by the way he slid his palm across Han's cheek. And the way he seemed to put everything he'd not yet said into his simple, quiet response. "Han."

He'd have been happy to sit there indefinitely, staring into Luke's eyes and trying to accept the fact that he now understood where all the crazy clichés above being in love came from. But Luke was here on an assignment, and he had an obligation to fulfill. 

"You'd better get ready to go," Han said, dragging the words out to make them last longer.

"Why don't you come too?"

"Nah. I'd go 'n say the wrong thing. I'm gonna go grab some stuff from the Falcon. Find out where the room is they've got for me."

Luke nodded and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and left it looking more disheveled than it was to begin with.

"I don't know how long it'll go on for. I'll contact you when it's over."

"I'll fetch a change of clothes. If it's a formal meal then I'd better look respectable. Mind you, if you're setting the standards round here..."

Luke glanced down at his crumpled tunic and dust-covered boots, then threw Han a wry grin. "I'm out of time. It'll have to do." He snatched at his weapons belt and strapped it round his hips, then headed for the door, touching Artoo's dome on the way.

"Hey," Han called out, leaping up from the bed. "Don't you want this?" He reached out and grasped Luke's cloak.

Luke's smile widened. "No."

Han shrugged, puzzled. "Okay."

"I'll explain later. Gotta go."

And with that Luke was out of the door and out of sight, leaving Han standing there, the rejected cloak bunched up in his hand.


	22. Chapter 22

It was an effort to stop his mind from wandering. Even envisaging Yoda's disapproval didn't have the focusing effect it should have done. _Never his mind on where he was. What he was doing..._

Years ago, Luke had known that an alternative side to him existed, deep inside. He'd stamped it down, fearful of ridicule and rejection from his more sophisticated and experienced friends. But when he'd discovered the truth of who he was it was his earlier self he'd tried to subdue. He'd trained himself to repress his impatient and reckless temperament, over which Yoda had once censured him.

Neither approach had been right, but it had taken the dramatic circumstances of the past two days for him to understand that. It was hard to remember a time when he'd not been at war with himself, but now, finally, the contradictory elements within his nature had reached some sort of reconciliation.

Que-raik's sudden question succeeded where Yoda's imaginary reproach had failed, and brought Luke's mind back to the proceedings in hand. 

"Would you be in agreement to taking Sheni-dain and two of her technicians back to Arudin?"

The Administrator had addressed the query to both Luke and Danu. The Senator glanced at Luke before answering. "I presume the cruiser has the capacity for additional passengers?"

Luke nodded. "It's large enough, but the supplies on board might not be suitable." He looked at Que-raik. "We've space for nutrient tanks if you've got portable ones."

"It's thoughtful of you to consider our needs Master Skywalker, but our bodies can store sufficient food to sustain us for several days. Sheni-dain and her companions will require only water for use in their masks. On Arudin itself, I'm sure there will be appropriate facilities."

"Yes," Luke agreed. "But won't they feel stranded there without their own ship?"

"You've probably realized that we're not travelers at heart. We own few ships here on Polis Massa, and most of those who join us don't plan on leaving. Hence we have even fewer pilots. I was hoping that our team could return in due course aboard an Alliance vessel and bring some of your medical droids back with them to study our techniques. Providing your leadership accepts the agreement of course."

"There'll always be someone available to fly them back, but it might not be me. Only because I never know what's going to come up."

Que-raik bowed his head. "Of course. Although many of us are hoping you'll pay us a second visit in the future. Or perhaps I should say a third visit."

Luke smiled. There had seemed no reason to keep the evidence of his birth hidden, and it would have raised suspicions if he'd requested that Sheni-dain say nothing of the discovery. It would be impossible for anyone to unearth the wider implications without input from Luke or any of the few people who knew the truth. "I'm sure I'll be coming back," he said. And the next time he'd be bringing Leia, but that was another matter that had to remain secret. However they achieved it, it was essential that Leia see the carvings for herself in order to comprehend their meaning. 

"Good. Speaking for myself, I feel we've gone as far as we can in our talks. Now I imagine you would both like a chance to relax before we get together again for the meal. I apologize for how little time that gives you – the meeting ran on for longer than I anticipated. I assume you'll want to leave tomorrow rather than later tonight?"

"Those back on Arudin will be keen to hear news of our visit, but it's not necessary to rush off," Danu replied. "I feel our trip here has been a huge success. The Alliance will be glad to call friends those who've helped us out in the past."

"The reverse is also true. We wish to mend links with those who once played a part in our lives. Sending a team to Arudin is a small step in opening up our horizons. Lately, the general consensus has been that we must begin to recognize ourselves as members of a wider galaxy."

Danu nodded. "There was a time when mixing with the rest of the galaxy could've meant losing freedoms under the Empire. Thankfully, those days are over."

With the meeting concluded, and after an extended round of polite leave-taking, Luke and Danu made their exit from the Administrator's rooms. 

Danu gave a small sigh, tinged with something that was very close to relief. "Official-speak has its uses, but can be very draining."

"At least you can do it," Luke said. "I'd be hopeless by myself."

"That I doubt. What you lack in jargon you make up for in other ways. On the surface it was easy to reach the agreement, but they're a lot more nervous about it than they make out. Having you here has made all the difference. And I'm not talking about the medical research."

"I think that helped though." Luke paused, hoping to guide the conversation back to the point they'd reached the day before. "I realize how much they admired the Jedi, but things have changed now. If they're hoping for a repeat of the past it's not going to happen."

Danu looked at him with a degree of speculation. "You sound very decided. When we spoke before you were unsure how you wanted to proceed."

"I've been making everything too complicated. Trying to look at every possible angle and direction, when really it's very simple. It's just taken me a long time to work it out."

"It's been six months since the Emperor's death. That's hardly a long time, even if it feels like it. And something tells me you'd probably worked it out before we came here."

Luke gave a soft laugh. "Maybe. I think I'm just very good at talking myself into a corner. Coming here has made a big difference though. I realize now how important it is to trust myself."

"Then I'm glad you agreed to come. But I feel I've left you stranded. Dropping cryptic remarks and not following them through must have been frustrating for you, especially as I'm sure you thought I might have some genuine information."

Luke smiled at him. "I didn't know what to think, but there hasn't been a chance to talk since then anyway. It's not your fault we've been so busy."

"I feel I've been secretive all the same. I should've worked harder to find the time."

"I've learned quite a bit since then, but I'd still like to know what you heard about the Prophecy."

"Are you heading back to your room?" Danu asked. 

"Yes, I need to shower and change before the meal."

"We can talk on the way then, although I suspect you know more than me by now."

They stopped by one of the repulsorcar halts. "I hoped you might be able to tell me more about the Senator from Naboo as well," Luke said. "I wondered if you thought there was a connection."

"A connection?"

"Between her and Polis Massa."

"Ah." Danu's brow creased in a small frown. "I take it you've had no further luck in acquiring details of your birth."

"Not if you mean facts. All that's left is the cell signature file. They erased everything else. Sheni-dain asked the midwife droids too, but I guess their memories would've been the first things wiped."

"That stands to reason. Protecting you and Leia must have been the main objective."

"Yes. There _have_ been other things I've found out. Besides facts."

"Oh?" 

"I visited the birthing unit."

Danu turned his gaze more fully on Luke. "The way you said that suggests it had some significance."

"It did. It confirmed Sheni-dain was right, though that wasn't the most important thing."

Danu raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak. Luke continued, wanting to give only the minimum of detail for now. Han was the person he wanted to share this with the most, but he felt some need to confide in the Senator. It had to do with the empathy Danu had shown towards his earlier uncertainty, and the strong sense that he'd found in Danu someone with a genuine appreciation for what it meant to be a Jedi.

"I understand what you were saying when you spoke about the Jedi Code," he continued. "By making it so restrictive they created other dangers, which then had to be controlled. When I went to the birthing room, I found out a small part of what was going on in my father's mind. He was struggling to deal with the repercussions of breaking the Code, and there was no-one in the Order he could turn to for help. At least, that's how he saw it." 

"You're telling me you sensed that through the Force?"

"Yes, but through my mother's mind. That's how I know for sure Leia and I were born here – because I found that connection to her. What I'm still trying to figure out is _why_ we ended up here. That's why I'm wondering if you knew something more. I know you were close to some of the Jedi in the past. Maybe you've remembered something?"

"I won't be of much help to you I'm afraid. I _did_ have friends inside the Order, but my contacts were mainly professional ones. Let me tell you how that came about."

Danu fell silent for a moment as the repulsorcar stopped beside the doors leading to the mine complex. The transport filled up with miners, the weariness that slowed their steps shifting to relief as they sank down onto the bench seats.

Danu continued his explanation. "In the years I served as Senator for Kuat I spent much of my time on Coruscant smoothing out trade deals between the Senate and the Kuati shipyards. I had many dealings with the Jedi Council too. They regularly used the Kuat Drive Yards to undertake specific modifications to their starfighters." Danu rubbed a hand across his jaw, his voice developing a caustic edge. "Undoubtedly, the war was a major boost to the Kuati economy."

Luke gave him rueful smile. "You got into trouble for your stance against the shipyards didn't you?"

"Ultimately it cost me my job and landed me twenty years on Belinar. I count myself among the lucky ones. Other colleagues of mine were not so fortunate."

"Kuat's thriving on unrest, even now," Luke noted. 

"The whole world is in thrall to the shipyards. Without some viable alternative employment it's difficult to see how things can change."

"I know, and the Imperial occupation is pushing production even further. We've had no requests for help, but even if we had I doubt the governors would agree to talks." 

"That's for sure. Bigger profit margins come from fighting. It's in their interests to prolong division in the galaxy. It was the reason I became involved with the Jedi in the first place. My abhorrence for warfare and the Jedi's increasing uneasiness over the Chancellor's emergency powers drew us together."

"Mon Mothma told me how Palpatine worked the situation to his advantage. Was that when the Jedi started to realize what he was up to?" Luke asked.

"Some of them had realized it long before. Others never believed it. Some thought Palpatine was little more than a power-hungry politician. At the height of the Clone Wars I noticed rifts opening up within the Order. Talk had started about a much darker threat hanging over the galaxy. Something that went beyond the war."

"The Sith?"

Danu nodded. "Outside the Order the subject was only mentioned in veiled terms, but I understood it to mean the Sith. Some of the Jedi felt the Council wasn't doing enough to investigate that possibility. That the Jedi leaders were simply waiting, in the belief that they had their answer already."

"Because of the Prophecy?"

"Yes. Remember though, I was an outsider, despite my sympathies. Nobody said anything explicit to me. I drew my conclusions from inference and probability. They did discuss the Prophecy openly however. I knew it referred to a Chosen One who would destroy the Sith and thus return balance to the Force. They didn't discuss to whom the Prophecy referred, although I understood that the Jedi had one amongst them who they believed filled that role. I admit that the concept fascinated me, as did anything that played a part in Jedi philosophy."

"So you never heard any names mentioned?"

"For the Chosen One – no. But I _did_ hear mention of Polis Massa." Danu smiled at Luke, apology heavy in his eyes. "I knew you'd guessed that I'd heard of the place before."

"I did wonder," Luke admitted.

"I only heard the name in passing. And maybe I should've paid more attention, but at the time I didn't understand the significance of what I was hearing. I was present during a disagreement between two members of the Order. I'd gone there with the intention of offloading my grievances against the Kuati aristocracy. Whilst I was waiting in the anteroom of the Council Chamber two Jedi arrived, presumably also heading for a meeting with the Council. They were in the midst of a heated discussion and paid no attention to me. I caught on straight away that they were talking about the Prophecy."

Danu shifted in his seat and Luke cast a glance outside. The repulsorcar was now in the final loop of the corridor that led to the guest rooms.

"One of the Jedi was refusing to accept that there was any truth to it, but the other refuted that," Danu continued. "She mentioned that Master Kenobi had seen the truth of it for himself when he'd gone to Polis Massa all those years ago."

The information gave Luke a small jolt inside. So Ben _had_ been to the asteroid before his and Leia's births. It felt like another piece of the puzzle was about to fall into place. "D'you know when he went?" he asked.

Danu shook his head. "No, but I suspect it was some years before my appointment as Senator. I heard just one more thing before the two of them disappeared through the Chamber doors. The female Jedi asked her companion a question. I can't recall her exact words, but it was something along the lines of 'why do you think he continued to train him?'"

Luke was silent for a few moments, remembering Tiriss-elain's comments in the caves. _I had a visitor, over thirty-five years or so back. A Jedi_... _he was trying to honor a promise he'd made..._

"He was keeping true to a promise," Luke said at last. "But I'm sure he believed in it too at first."

"They were talking about Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprentice weren't they? Your father."

"I think so. Anakin Skywalker was the Chosen One."

Danu nodded slowly. "So they were right to believe. My own feelings about it haven't been clear. After the burning of the Jedi Temple I waited for events to turn back around, as I was sure they would. They didn't, and the situation grew worse. Bail told me the Jedi had been defeated. He grieved for them, as did I. In my mind, the Prophecy became merely a story with no basis in reality. But then, many years later, I learned of you and I heard that you'd killed the Emperor and Darth Vader."

"I expect more people believe that than know the truth," Luke said.

"Many prefer an altered version of the truth in any case," Danu said dryly. "You can imagine my thoughts. Here was a Jedi who'd destroyed the last of the Sith. I began to wonder about the Prophecy once more. Out there on Belinar, I wondered if _you_ were the Chosen One, and the Jedi had got it wrong."

"But when you found out it was Darth Vader who killed the Emperor that must've ruined your theory."

Danu gave a quiet laugh, mirroring Luke's amusement. "It did, to be honest. But then Mon Mothma started asking me about Polis Massa, and all my fascination for the legend started up again. It seemed like there was no way for me to avoid it. And she wanted you to accompany me there."

"Why though? I know the visit's all about Jedi links and the medical science agreement. But I thought she had another reason."

"It was because I once told her something Bail had said to me."

The admission surprised Luke. He'd been expecting a further reference to Obi-Wan. "What was it?"

Danu held Luke's gaze steadily. "It concerned a conversation that happened just after the funeral of Senator Amidala. Bail and I met to discuss how we were going to handle the political fall-out from the declaration of the Empire. Bail was calm on the outside, but he was a mass of emotion inside. I could see it all, just barely restrained. I discovered so many things my head was reeling. He talked about Palpatine and how he'd plotted his rise to power. And he talked about the Jedi and how they believed they'd failed. He mentioned Obi-Wan, and for some reason the Prophecy sprung to my mind. I told him how I'd understood that the Jedi had pinned their hopes on the Prophecy, but it appeared nothing had come of it."

The repulsorcar slowed and hovered at the junction linking the guest suites with the main settlement. Luke and the Senator alighted and stood for a moment, waiting for the transport to draw away.

"I remember Bail giving me a strange look, but he didn't question me then," Danu continued. "I kept on, curious to know if Master Kenobi had spoken to Bail about it. I told him I'd heard that a place called Polis Massa had once provided convincing evidence that the legend had a basis in truth. The expression on Bail's face when I said the name was one of utter shock. He stared at me for a long time before asking me how I knew of it."

They were the only occupants of the corridor and Danu's voice sounded unnaturally loud after the drone of the repulsorcar. Even the tiny fragments of asteroids that spattered intermittently against the insulated transparisteel wall made no dent in the silence. They walked along slowly.

"I told him about the fragments of conversation that I'd heard and I'm certain I saw relief in his face that my knowledge was so scanty. Then he asked me to keep the information to myself and never to mention the name of Polis Massa to anyone outside our closed little community of sympathizers."

"But he didn't say why?" Luke asked.

"No. He said something very odd instead. That some time in the future there could be changes and if there were, that I should remember this conversation and recall recent events. At the time I had no idea what he meant, but it left me with an abiding curiosity over Polis Massa. I never spoke of it to anyone but Mon Mothma, and only then because she'd expressed deep regret for excluding the Jedi from our alliance. She knew you were facing issues over your role as a Jedi. Both she and I were of the opinion that Polis Massa may hold some sort of answer for you."

"And you were both right." Luke shook his head, still bemused by the chain of coincidences that had brought him back to the asteroid. He considered what Bail Organa had said to Danu. "Bail told you to recall recent events?" he asked. "Surely he knew you'd never forget them?"

"The more I thought about it, the more I took it to mean that some day, when we'd restored freedom to the galaxy and rid it of Palpatine, then we'd have the chance to honor those who'd died. We couldn't do it publicly back then. Showing support for either murdered Jedi or fellow senators convicted of treason would've led to our own arrest."

Luke nodded. "It sounds like he may have meant that."

"I'm not so sure any more. I think he was trying to hint at something more specific without revealing anything incriminating." Danu leveled a long look at Luke. "I wonder now if he was referring to Padmé Amidala's death."

***

Luke reflected that this evening's meal was a lot less formal than the previous one. Now that the negotiating side to their visit was over there was no need to step carefully for fear of jeopardizing the agreement. Also, both he and Senator Danu were now more familiar with the Polis Massan lifestyle than they'd been on arrival. 

Conversation over meals was clearly a rare thing here. Luke suspected that social dining of this sort only took place on specific occasions such as when visitors stayed, and even then there was a notable quietness about them. It was more practical that way. The Polis Massans obtained their nutrients though osmosis and had devised a table-top device that enabled them to join in with those who consumed food in other ways. Within the privacy of their own quarters, Luke knew that they used full-size submersion tanks. He doubted that the table-top osmosis masks did much more than provide a token intake of nutrients – they were a gesture more than anything else.

Every so often, the Polis Massans would dip their faces into their masks and remain there for several minutes. It was the cue for their human guests to turn their attention to their own plates of food. During these intervals, Luke was aware of Han watching him, his expression full of warm appraisal. Every so often, Luke smiled back at him, catching his eyes for only the shortest of moments. It would've been too easy to allow those small intimate glances to become something else. To lose himself in Han's encompassing gaze to the exclusion of all others there. But Luke was conscious of the presence of Senator Danu and the need to remain an active participant in the function. He hoped to have plenty of time with Han later, but it felt like all the time in the world wouldn't be enough to address the questions they both had for each other.

Luke and the Senator had reached a tacit agreement early on, that talking during the Polis Massans' immersion in their masks didn't feel right. Nobody disapproved, but it would've seemed impolite. As though they were having an exclusive conversation while their hosts were unable to join in.

Luke used the periods of silence to think. He wanted to share his discoveries with Leia and found himself missing their time together with a pang of regret. Not so strange really, when he considered why he should feel that way. The dynamics of friendship between himself, Han and Leia had changed, and there was no going back. And although he couldn't imagine a future without the closeness he'd developed with Leia, it was inevitable that the altered circumstances would affect it, at least at first. Deep down, he knew Leia would no more want a division between any of them than Luke did. It was just the awkwardness of the situation. Going up to their sanctuary on the hill wouldn't be the same now. The last time the three of them had climbed there together, Leia had been with Han.

But despite the difficulties they needed to face, for Luke the future beckoned with new promise. Where once it had seemed cloudy and uncertain, now it was as bright and clear as sunlight on snow. Unable to help himself, he let his eyes fall back on Han, absorbing the happiness he could see there and knowing that it stemmed from the very same contentment he felt within himself.

Luke had never been a believer in the power of destiny over free will. His gut instincts had guided him all his life and he'd continuously rebelled against those who'd tried to dictate his future to him. But he hadn't always known the importance of trusting his instincts. In some ways, Ben and Yoda had been the same, exhorting him to rely on his feelings, whilst at the same time instructing him how to proceed in ways that directly contradicted those feelings. It was only at the end that Yoda had seemed to see it. _No more training do you require. Already know you that which you need_ , he'd said. As if he'd finally accepted that Luke's feelings were enough to guide him in his life ahead. Maybe Luke should've listened to those words more carefully, but events had taken over and the doubts, fuelled by the Emperor even after his death, had set in. 

Now, after all that he'd learned, it was easy to see where his thinking had gone wrong. But would he have believed in himself more strongly if Yoda and Ben had told him all there was to know? Wasn't it more the point that he'd had to find it out for himself? Even though he'd discovered so much, he still had questions, most of them certain to remain unanswered. Was it by design that Ben had brought his mother to Polis Massa, or was it down to some strange twist of fate? It made him wonder how accidental the omission of his cell signature was from the deletion program that had taken place after the birth. Was Leia's cell signature also here, buried deep in the system? 

He knew that Ben had been present at his birth. And Yoda too. When he'd succumbed to the visions in the birthing chamber he'd felt those same pinpricks of familiarity he'd experienced when Leia had shared her memory. An obvious source had been the presence of Leia herself, but he'd been able to isolate his twin from his awareness of others. He'd felt something similar when he'd landed on Dagobah for the first time. Knowledge of something – or someone – known to him. He'd been with Yoda long before the Jedi master had startled him in the swamps. Not only during his birth, but also throughout his youth when Yoda had studied him through the Force. The clash of images that had swept over him in the medcenter had also shown him Ben, and although he'd always known Ben had been involved in his birth, he hadn't realized how active his role had been. But now he did. He also understood just how wrong Ben had been that day–

The soft touch to his shoulder interrupted his train of thought and he shifted over to allow the Polis Massan behind him to take away his plate. It was the signal to move from the table and into an adjoining room. Here, they were secluded from the endless stream of spinning asteroids by broad shutters, and the softer lighting was in contrast to the harsher illumination of the dining area.

It was now that conversation began. And it coincided with Han getting his wish at last. Que-raik produced a tall stone bottle from a wooden chest. He wiped away a fine coating of dust, revealing a faded and aged label. Held it aloft for his guests to see.

"This was a gift from Coruscant some years ago. We've never had cause to use it before now, but I think today warrants a celebration."

Han gave a low whistle. "Vintage Alderaanian brandy. That's gotta be at least 200 years old."

Que-raik nodded. "A thank you from a visiting ship. My predecessor received it quarter of a century back. Our bodies cannot process spirits such as this, but it was a generous gesture nevertheless."

"Almost a crime to drink it," Han remarked.

"But as big a crime to leave it untouched," Giddean Danu added.

Han grinned at the Senator. "That's why I said 'almost'."

Que-raik unsealed the brandy, letting the aroma of malted grain seep into the room. He poured it slowly into three stemmed goblets and handed them around. The liquor was a deep, burnt amber in color, thick and heavy in consistency. But its fragrance was unexpectedly light. It reminded Luke of the scent of Leia, bringing to mind fresh air and mountains and snow and high-altitude herbs. Hers was the scent of Alderaan, but he'd never made the connection before now. The realization gave him a sharp stab of dismay. It was a fragrance now obtainable only through bottles and speculative interpretation – the original lost forever, along with his chance of discovering a key part of Leia's past. 

He took the heavy glass with a smile of thanks, wondering if he gave off subtle intimations of his homeworld to those around him. He thought of the aromatic scent of the soap he washed with and the spicy food he preferred. Desert spices. The homesickness was sharp and unavoidable, but not unfamiliar. It often caught him when he was least expecting it, leaving him with memories of Aunt Beru's comforting hugs, or the heaviness of Uncle Owen's hand on his shoulder. Feeling it here was inevitable. His past and Polis Massa were inextricably linked, and now every memory of Tatooine was going to lead back here.

He looked across at the others, noticing Han's quizzical glance. Luke shook his head, dismissing his abstraction as inconsequential. It wasn't, of course, but he preferred to reserve explanation for the private time with Han that had to come soon. 

He couldn't say for sure that he understood everything he'd seen here. For one thing, it was impossible to untangle his own interpretation of his findings from one that portrayed his destiny as predetermined. It didn't matter, because he _did_ understand the meaning of the balance the carvings had predicted. And he needed to explain that to Han, because although he was certain Han had seen _why_ Luke and Leia symbolized change, Luke didn't think he'd realized exactly what that meant to Luke. 

The Emperor's words struck him once more – _only now, at the end, do you understand._ But it seemed to Luke that the Emperor himself had never really understood. Had Palpatine ever visited here, or had the legend of the Chosen One reached him in the traditional manner of ancient mythology? A story handed down through successions of Sith Masters and Apprentices, each recitation adding new twists and turns and cementing the belief in its existence. 

_You, like your father, are now mine._ Palpatine's declaration could have had another level of meaning. One that implied that the Emperor had not only known of the Prophecy, but that he'd tried to possess it too. That he'd attempted to avert it by taking control of it. First, by the manipulation and imprisonment of his father's mind, and then by his efforts to coerce Luke into following in Vader's steps.

The Sith would've had no interest in balance. Such a concept went against their doctrine. To them, the Prophecy spelt their end, yet it was their own teachings that had given it new power. The visions of the Eellayin gave the Prophecy conviction, and that was enough to set events in motion. With his belief in the power of destiny and his attempts to dictate the unfolding future, the Emperor had brought about the very actions he'd been trying to thwart. 

"General Solo, you haven't been to see my laboratories yet." Sheni-dain had made her way over to Han. Pulled from his thoughts for a second time, Luke watched Han's efforts to think of a way out of her accusation with growing amusement.

"Er, tomorrow?" Han said, having failed to find a better answer. "Although you're gonna be busy gettin' ready to leave." He hid the hopeful undertones well.

"I'm never too busy to show off my work. I'll expect you tomorrow morning then."

"Right."

"Although I suppose most of our technology will be nothing new to you. As a General with the Alliance you must be involved in all your medical advances."

"Not really. I tend to keep outta the way of medical droids."

"But you're interested?" Sheni-dain persisted.

"Well... sure. When I can understand it. Flying a ship's more my thing."

Luke grinned at him from across the room. The Polis Massan cloning technology and genetic research was central to their existence on the asteroid. Everyone was involved in it in some way and lack of understanding wouldn't be an obstacle.

"Will you be accompanying us to Arudin?" the scientist asked.

Han nodded. "But I'll get there before you. My ship's the Millennium Falcon."

"Oh?"

"You've never heard of her?"

"Should I have?"

The expression on Han's face was priceless and Luke bent down over his glass to disguise his laughter. Han would no doubt accuse him of setting the conversation up, but it really was just coincidence. Only this time Han stayed quiet, probably realizing that his Kessel Run story had about as much chance of impressing Sheni-dain as it had Obi-Wan.

When he looked up Han aimed a glare at him and Luke moved over to join them. "I thought Tiriss-elain might've come to the meal," he said to Sheni-dain.

"She was planning to, but I believe she's resting instead. She came to see me earlier on – told me she'd met you both today."

"Yes. I hope the visit to the caves didn't tire her out too much."

"She's stronger than she looks. I think she just wanted some time to herself. She said she had some things to think through."

"I can imagine," Han put in, earning a puzzled glance from Sheni-dain.

"Meeting Luke, I meant," Han explained, adopting a tone of mild innocence. "That's gonna give anyone pause for thought."

"Oh?" Sheni-dain said. "Perhaps it was meeting you that did it." She spied Perek-tain on the other side of the room. "Would you excuse me? I'd like to arrange to take some samples with me to Arudin."

"Sure," Han said. "I wouldn't wanna mess with her," he added, after the scientist had moved away.

"You did ask for it," Luke grinned.

"I only give as good as I get. Makes you wonder what kinda samples she's collecting."

"I'm sure she'll tell you if you ask her."

"Some other time. How long have we gotta stay here makin' small talk?"

Luke glanced around at the assembled group. "No idea. I shouldn't think it'll go on much longer though."

It just showed how wrong he could be when, two hours later, the gathering finally broke up. Han had proved that he really could give as good as he got when he was singled out as the main source of alternative information on the galaxy. The Eellayin may have lived an austere and closeted lifestyle, but if the interest in Han's stories was anything to go by, it looked as though the Polis Massans didn't intend to emulate their supposed ancestors indefinitely.

When Han escaped from the flood of questions, he sought Luke out, a thoughtful look on his face. "Are you gonna show me this birthing center then?"

"You want to go there?" Luke asked, surprised.

"If there was a chance to go to Corellia to see where I was born, would you wanna go?"

"Well, yes – I guess so."

"So there's your answer."

***

This time the visit was legitimate. Luke had asked Que-raik if anyone minded him seeing the medical center where he'd been born, and Que-raik had told him to go ahead. Luke's request had surprised the Administrator – not because Luke wanted to see the place for himself, but because Luke had felt it necessary to ask. Luke had refrained from mentioning that he'd been there already, and waited whilst Que-raik gave him detailed directions to the corridor in question.

"I can't tell you which birthing room is the correct one," Que-raik had said, his tone apologetic. "With no records remaining we've no way of knowing."

Luke had smiled and told him it didn't matter. He just wanted to see the complex.

Now, as they made their way to the birthing room Luke considered how the corridor gave off an indefinable sense of peace. The whole atmosphere seemed imbued with it, and it was only partly down to the soft-focus lighting and sound-minimizing surfaces. Luke thought it had something to do with the way he could sense the eternal cycle of life through the Force. Here, where new life was just beginning, the benign power of the Force was at its strongest. In the background, and just audible, were the soft mewling sounds of newborn infants. 

When Han heard them he turned to Luke with a peculiar expression. "I dunno why – but it feels like we're walkin' back in time."

"In some ways I guess we are," Luke said. Back into _his_ past at any rate.

They reached the chamber with its large viewing window. Luke walked up to it and gazed inside. Han joined him, staring at the inactive displays, silent monitors and central table.

"Thanks for coming here," Luke said, breaking the long moment of silence. He wasn't referring just to the birthing center, but Han would know that anyway.

"I dunno what I expected," Han admitted. "Just knew I had to see you. I had to explain, y'know... about the hangar."

"You don't need to explain."

"Yeah, well I'm good at landing people in it. One of the things I do best."

Luke could feel Han's eyes on him and he turned to look at him. "I'm glad you did it. I know what you meant by it."

"Really?"

"Sometimes it's better to come right out with the truth instead of trying to shield everyone from it."

"It's not just Leia 'n a few Alliance pilots though, is it? Most of the galaxy's gonna know by now."

"I know, but that kind of gossip doesn't matter. It's how _we_ feel about it. And how Leia feels about it."

"I dunno how Leia feels about it. She's kinda wound up. All the stuff you've been sayin' – _she's_ sayin' it now."

"It's one thing being told what getting angry can do, but it's another thing to feel it happen. It's hard to get to grips with it."

"Yeah, I get that. But she's sayin' stuff about you as well. About you trying to decide what to do. She thinks everything's unbalanced all of a sudden."

"Is that what she said?"

"Yeah. Maybe I'm missing somethin', but I don't get how you just thinking about the future is gonna throw the Force outta balance."

Luke shook his head. "It isn't. I think what she's sensing is how wrong it would feel to set things back to how they were. She's listening to her feelings and they're telling her something."

"That's what I wondered. She's been tryin' to imagine what it'd be like to live like the Jedi of the past, but it doesn't feel right to her. She's gotta trust her feelings, right?"

"It's the most important thing Yoda taught me, but it's also the thing that's given me the most trouble."

"You're only seein' part of it," Han objected. "You trusted your feelings when you flew to Cloud City, and when you went off to look for Vader on Endor. All along it's been about that. Just 'cause you questioned yourself doesn't mean you got it wrong. Questioning's a good thing if you ask me."

 _Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions..._ "I think the Jedi were taught _not_ to question."

"So maybe they were wrong. Askin' questions ain't the same thing as ignoring your feelings."

"You're right, it isn't," Luke smiled. He fell silent for a moment. Turned his head back to look into the birthing room. 

"Are you going inside?" Han asked.

"No. I think I've discovered all I can from here. When Leia comes I might go in again."

"You're gonna bring her here?"

Luke glanced again at Han. "Yes. The memory she shared with me came from here. Right in this room. The woman she saw was our mother. I know that for certain now."

"Even though you don't know who she was."

"I... don't know for sure. Not yet. But I know she died here, and I know _why_ she died."

"D'you wanna talk about it?"

Luke studied the room, his eyes focusing on the birthing table. In his mind he saw echoes of Leia's memory, intermingled with the faces from his own vision. He saw his mother, her face a mask of pain but her spirit still full of determination. And Obi-Wan, full of distress and confusion and misunderstanding.

"Obi-Wan was there with her," Luke said, keeping his eyes on the table. Beside him Han stayed silent, listening to him.

"She didn't have much time left but there were things she needed to say. She knew, you see. She understood what the Emperor had done. It was as if I was there, right inside her mind. As if I was with her."

Han reached out a hand, touched Luke lightly on the arm. "Y'know, you _were_ there with her."

"Yes. And somehow, through the Force, I could sense her emotions. Obi-Wan tried to do the same. He tried to understand what was happening, but she was too strong for him. He thought she'd simply lost the will to survive. That Anakin had taken away all that was left to live for."

"But it wasn't like that?"

"No, and that's why Leia has to come here. She's stopped believing that our mother's grief was because she was leaving us. She thinks as Ben did, that it was all down to Vader and the way things turned out."

Luke moved closer to Han, catching the comforting, perennial scent of the Falcon on his clothes, and the faint fragrance of Alderaanian whisky. Han slid an arm across Luke's shoulders and they looked together into the room.

"It was her way of fighting for us, but she was fighting for Anakin too. She hadn't lost faith in him. Knew there was still good in him. She wanted Ben to remember that. They were the last words she managed to speak."

"And Ben forgot."

"I don't think he forgot. I think he stopped believing it. When he found out what Anakin had become I suppose he lost hope."

"It's a good job _you_ never did," Han said. "Did your mother know about this place? About the Prophecy?"

"I don't know. But she knew Palpatine had somehow planted ideas in Anakin's mind. When I went in there before I had these visions. It felt like I'd been thrown backwards into someone's memories, but they were totally chaotic and muddled. A lot of what I felt didn't make any sense – just mixed-up emotions. She knew what was coming. She'd seen it building up. All the fear and confusion in Anakin."

"You mean his turn to the Dark Side?"

"Yes. There were... voices too." Luke gave an apologetic shrug. "I guess all this sounds crazy to you."

"Yeah, it's crazy, but that doesn't mean I don't believe it. Just keep tellin' me."

Luke hesitated. "There was my father's voice. I think it must've been part of my mother's memories. I kept hearing him saying the same thing, over and over. _I've found a way to save you_."

"From what?"

"Death."

"But he didn't save her."

Luke twisted round to smile at Han. "No. She needed to prove he was wrong."

"I don't understand."

"He was talking about Dark Side powers. It was in his head that she was going to die and he was determined to prevent it. But it would've been through using the Dark Side and my mother couldn't allow that to happen. I think in the middle of all the pain she was going through she saw a way to do it. That she had a choice – life or death. If she chose life then Anakin would sense it, and the knowledge would've validated his actions. If she chose to die then maybe he'd understand how the Dark Side thrives on lies and deception. She thought she could save him."

"What about you and Leia? To do that meant leaving you."

"I know. That's why I felt so much grief from her. But she knew what the Emperor was capable of and recognized the danger we'd be in. What she wanted most of all was to protect us, so she made the hardest choice of all. And she trusted Ben to know what to do. What better way to hide babies than to pretend they've never been born?"

Han slid his other arm around Luke's waist and pulled him up close. "It's all so..." he tailed off, grazed his lips against Luke's cheek instead.

"I know," Luke said, understanding what Han was trying to say. There wasn't really a word that could sum it up. But he hadn't finished yet, because the vision wasn't only about pain and darkness and grief. There'd been the light.

"I said to Leia that I didn't believe our mother's relationship with Vader had been all about suffering. She wanted to believe me but I don't think she did. Obviously there _was_ a lot of that, but the overriding feeling I got was one of love. For Anakin and for us. It was the strongest thing of all for her, and when she chose to die it was because of that love, and because she still had hope. When she made that decision I could sense the change in her. It just took over. Made everything that was wrong feel right."

"You take after her then," Han said quietly.

Luke drew back, studying Han's face. "In what way?"

"In the way you put those you care about first. You've always done that and you always will. You chose to die too, remember."

"It didn't happen."

"No," Han murmured, pulling Luke back into the embrace. "It didn't happen."

Luke brushed a kiss against Han's jaw. "I had this image of light, right at the end. I don't know if it was something my mother was experiencing or if it had some wider meaning. All the darkness just... vanished."

"What you're sayin' makes me think of that last carving," Han noted. "All that stuff about light and the end of the Sith."

"Yes," Luke said. He reached out and placed his palm flat against the synthglass window, imagining once more the threads of connection he'd felt in the room. "But I'd like to think she felt it too." 

The initial coolness of the window beneath his hand had changed to a building warmth. It was as if he'd touched a living being, and he could feel the Force flow between his body and the room. A subtle tilting threatened to throw him off balance, and was all the warning he had before the vision took over...

The darkness was back. Fragments from his mother's growing awareness and bitter conflict. As before, there were voices from different times and different places. Some he didn't know, but others were instantly recognizable. Obi-Wan's, committed and intent. _He was deceived by a lie._ His mother's, full of denial and despair. _I don't believe you. I can't..._ And his father's, resolute but tinged with desperation. _I won't let this one become real..._

Luke opened his eyes, feeling the grip of Han's hands around his arms. He focused on Han, waiting for the haziness to fade completely.

"What the hell happened?" Han asked, his voice gruff with anxiety. 

"It was like before. My mother's memories. I heard her voice. And I heard Obi-Wan. And something else..."

"What?"

"My father. I heard him speak to my mother." Luke stared at Han, rendered immobile by feelings he couldn't decipher. "He called her Padmé."


	23. Chapter 23

They walked back from the medcenter in near silence. Luke was aware of Han's occasional glances, full of unasked questions and renewed uncertainty. He wasn't sure why that insecurity had returned, because nothing had happened that could change Luke's feelings for Han.

He wanted to stop, right there in the corridor, and make it clear that there was no cause for concern, but there were too many distractions. The round-the-clock shifts operating in Polis Massa's mines left no quiet time of day, and even though the Polis Massans were silent by nature, the corridors were noisy with the clatter of heavy gravity boots.

There were no free seats on the repulsor-car they caught, and the crush on board left Han and Luke standing at opposite ends of the vehicle. Luke gripped the overhead bar and steadied himself against the lurch of the transport as it wound its way through the settlement hub. He watched the asteroid field, almost close enough to touch, and wondered what his mother had made of this place. Had she known anything of its strange secrets, or surmised the role she was playing in events foretold thousands of years before she'd even lived? Whatever she'd deduced, she'd known enough to understand the hold that belief in destiny had over others. 

_Padmé_. A founder of the Rebel Alliance who'd chosen to die because she knew... _something_. She'd looked for an answer and she'd found one, right at the end. Her death had been more than a last act against the darkness that had taken over his father. More than a protective shield thrown around her children. She'd known it was the right choice with a degree of certainty that should've been impossible, but Luke had learned by now not to throw that word around so readily. His mother had been a Senator, not a Jedi, yet in those last minutes of life she'd forged a link with Luke and Leia that went beyond the obvious. 

_Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us_... Both Ben and Yoda had talked of the Force as an energy field created by life, but also as a power that partially directed the actions of those who could feel it. Whatever role the Force had played in his mother's life, Luke had sensed no element of coercion or control. He'd felt only harmony. It could've represented his mother's last conscious emotion, but Luke thought it went deeper than that. He believed that somehow, through the Force, his mother had glimpsed the future, and it had given her the strength to stand by her decision.

"We can stay on if you want," Han said, his voice an amused murmur in Luke's left ear.

Surprised, Luke turned his head, noticing how the transport had emptied of all but a few stragglers making their way to the perimeter of the settlement. Outside was the familiar corridor of the guest suite.

Luke grinned. "I guess I wasn't paying attention." Again. It was getting to be a habit, he thought, as he followed Han to the exit ramp.

Luke stopped outside the door to his room. There was a short moment of silence while he searched his pockets for the entry card.

"It's been a long day," Han said. "You probably wanna get some sleep."

"I need to check on Artoo. He still worries when I'm gone for longer than a couple of hours." Luke produced the card and slid it into the door panel. "And I want to ask him something," he added.

"Sure. Do whatever you wanna do."

Luke studied him for a moment, not taken in by Han's studied casualness. The uncertainty he'd noticed earlier was still there and Luke's reply had made it worse. "Just to make it clear – no, I'm not tired, and no, I don't want to get some sleep," he explained, his slow smile sparking relief in Han's eyes. "Unless that's what _you_ want to do."

Han grinned. "Ain't the first thing on my mind."

"I won't be long then."

"Right." Han's tone was full of skepticism. "Want me to come in?"

"No – it'll be easier if I speak to him alone. He's a bit touchy over all this."

"He's a droid. He's not supposed to be touchy."

Luke shrugged. "Try telling him that."

"It's probably all those years of hangin' around with Goldenrod. That'd drive anyone round the twist."

Han set off down the corridor in the direction of his room and Luke watched him, reluctant to look away. Just as Luke was about to place a hand on the door panel Han stopped and turned round. Luke smiled, caught out in his appraisal.

Han's grin returned. "You'll take even longer if you don't get in there."

"Probably," Luke said, wondering how it was that desire had the ability to root his feet to the spot. He'd kept it in check all evening, but now it felt like he couldn't cope for even a few more moments. Of course, if he didn't let Artoo know he was okay then the droid would come looking for him instead. The thought provided the impetus he needed to turn away.

Artoo greeted him with the now-customary complaints, offset with a degree of relief that ought to have been incompatible with droid programming. In fact, Luke had never met a droid who wasn't temperamental. Even the Treadwell on Tatooine had grown impatient and bad-tempered when called on to repair the same vaporators day in and day out.

Luke sat down on the bed and waited until Artoo had trundled across to him. "Listen Artoo. There's something I want to explain. Something you need to know about me."

Artoo beeped, sounding wary.

"No, it's nothing to worry about. It's just that I get the impression you think I'm gonna disappear one day. And I think I know why."

Artoo gave an anxious chirrup, his dome rotating slowly.

"Maybe you've been programmed not to tell me, or maybe you haven't. But I know you remember things from before I was born. I know you were here on Polis Massa with my mother, although I don't know what your connection was. Maybe it was Obi-Wan? On Tatooine you claimed to have been his property."

Luke wondered why he'd never thought to question Artoo in detail. At the time he'd assumed the purported ownership by Obi-Wan Kenobi was a ruse. But even if Artoo hadn't belonged to Ben he'd certainly known him. And if he'd known Ben, then he must also have known Anakin Skywalker.

Artoo had stilled, listening to Luke's words. The lights on his dome flickered on and off in slow repetition but he made no form of reply. Luke wasn't anticipating an answer tonight. He'd been with Artoo for close on five years and the droid had never so much as hinted that he'd known of Luke's existence before the Jawa sandcrawler had arrived at the Lars homestead. The reasons behind that remained hidden away, deep inside Artoo's circuits, and attempts to unearth it too fast were bound to backfire. And Artoo was stubborn. Luke still remembered the problems over Leia's hologram to Ben.

"Whatever your reasons for being there, I'm sure you knew my father. And I think you knew he became Darth Vader. It explains so many of your reactions. You'd seen something of what the Emperor had done to him and that's why you were so anxious on Endor when you found out where I'd gone. I guess you wondered if I'd be following in my father's footsteps and staying with the Emperor."

Artoo broke his silence with a low whistle that sounded almost like an apology. His lights blinked rapidly, reminiscent of his distress in Sheni-dain's laboratory.

Luke reached out and touched Artoo's dome. "It doesn't matter. I don't blame you if that's what you thought. It must've been a difficult time for you, especially as everything to do with the Jedi and the Sith points to history repeating itself. That's what I want to explain. That it doesn't always work like that. It's only inevitable if you believe there's no other option."

Luke took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders, suddenly weary despite his denial to Han. He stood up and walked across the room, hearing the whirr of Artoo turning to follow his progress. "You might think I'm like my father, and I'm sure you're right in some ways. And maybe you heard Yoda say it too. Honestly, I can't even say how true it is. I never knew him – not in the real sense. But I did see certain things about him, and that's why I know I'm _not_ like him. Not deep down inside."

Luke moved back towards Artoo and crouched down in front of him. "And that's why I'm never going to go where he went."

Artoo made a series of soft beeps and Luke smiled back at him. "I'm guilty of talking myself into thinking all sorts of things and it's taken me a while to be certain. There's no danger I'm going to disappear. When I go off somewhere without you, you can count on me coming back."

Luke stood back up, hoping he'd set Artoo back on track towards regaining his former confident self. The droid was renowned for being independent and strong-willed, but he'd suffered, along with the rest of them, in the aftermath of Endor.

"I'm going to talk to Han now," Luke explained. "I don't know how long I'll be. Then tomorrow we're setting off back to Arudin."

For the first time in months, Artoo didn't protest against Luke's plans and Luke took that as a good sign. If he'd managed to reassure Artoo in just one short conversation, then maybe it wouldn't take Artoo much longer before he felt able to broach the past. Luke was convinced that inside Artoo lay a lifetime of secrets just waiting to come out.

***

When Han let the door to his room slide open he looked bleary-eyed, as if he'd fallen asleep waiting for Luke. It had been a long day for him too, Luke reflected, regardless of the flight and time differences. It was the emotional drain of too much information and too many discoveries. Luke understood – his entire visit to Polis Massa had been like that.

Que-raik had given Han a room in an adjoining corridor with a transparent shield-wall that gave onto the asteroid field. Han had told Luke during the meal that the Administrator had apologized for the room, but that no other internal rooms were suitable. Luke wondered if the Polis Massans believed their guests would rather have isolation than a view into space, but in truth Luke would've preferred Han's room. Han had left the steel shutters open, allowing the endlessly spinning asteroids to cast their twisting, dark shadows across the walls. There was something mesmerizing about them, just as there was in staring through the shield watching the fragments of rock circling past. 

Luke wandered across to gaze through the transparisteel wall. Han had noted that everything about the place seemed crazy, and he wasn't far wrong. There was something unsettling about looking out directly into space with no atmosphere to separate them from the vacuum. It ought to have felt like being in a ship, but the odd sensation bore no resemblance to that. And although Han's room was much less claustrophobic in the traditional sense, it still made Luke feel vaguely trapped. The overall atmosphere of Polis Massa was most likely responsible for that.

"Did you get everythin' sorted with Artoo?" Han asked.

Luke turned to reply but the words died in his throat before he could utter them. Han was leaning back against the door, his arms folded and his eyes fixed on Luke with an intensity that reached out across the room. It was almost tangible. A heat that fluttered across Luke's skin and settled inside him inside him like the sharp ache of hunger. Maybe Han had never revealed before just how deep his feelings ran, or maybe Luke hadn't allowed himself to recognize the full extent of them. But now they were there to be seen, overt and unmistakable, etched across Han's face and simmering in the darkened gaze that locked on Luke and pinned him in place.

Han's searching stare seemed to strip away the layers of doubt that had left them both wary. There'd always been that caution in the back of Luke's mind. The one that had warned him against hurting Han and destroying the balance of friendship and happiness that existed between them. It had run alongside his feelings for Han, not diminishing them, but burying them beneath a layer of guilt and self-recrimination. And Han had known that, consciously drawing away just a little, allowing Luke the space he thought Luke had needed. 

But all those voices that had tried to counter what Luke had known deep inside had vanished now, leaving his emotions exposed and open. It was unsettling and disturbing in its newness. Like ripping away a security blanket, only to discover that its sole purpose had been to smother. It left him confronting the reality of need with all its rough edges and raw power. 

"Luke."

It was just one word. Only his name. But Han's low, guttural tone gave everything away. Luke held out a hand, still searching for words that wouldn't come. His indrawn breath turning to the sharp clench of desire as Han pushed off from the door and walked over.

Han's grip on his shoulders was hard, the press of his fingers punishing even through a layer of cloth. His mouth on Luke's was possessive, his tongue greedy and demanding answers, still fueled by uncertainty. 

When Han pulled back, Luke could see the conflict in Han's eyes. The battle between instinct and reason that Luke knew as well as anyone. The wish to let go. To forget about everything but the present moment. Luke had urged Han to do that once before, but the issues had stayed with them even so. 

"You've no idea what it's been like," Han rasped, his eyes never leaving Luke's face.

"I do know," Luke said, his own voice throaty and uneven. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything. Not knowing what to do. Dragging you along with me."

"You ain't dragged me anywhere. I've gone where I've wanted to go."

"I didn't mean coming here. I meant... emotionally."

"I know what you meant. My answer's the same."

Luke reached out for a measure of composure, understanding the importance of clearing the last traces of confusion from Han's mind. "I know it doesn't all make sense to you," he said. "I want to make it clear." 

"If it makes sense to you, that's enough for me."

Luke pressed a hand to Han's cheek, his palm resting against the darkened shadow of stubble. "It's not enough. Unless you understand it I don't think you're ready to believe it."

"I believe you when you say you're not gonna leave. I believe all that crazy stuff down in the caves," Han said. He pushed Luke's hair aside and kissed the side of his face. "And I believe you know what you want." 

Han had moved a hand to the small of Luke's back, rubbing it against Luke's tunic in small, circular motions that raised shivers against Luke's skin, breaking through the fragile layer of calm he'd constructed. "But you don't get _how_ I know."

Han shrugged, but the gesture lacked conviction. "Seems like everything points to you. All that stuff about the prophecy and the end of the Sith. All this time you've been worried that you're not gonna live up to Yoda's expectations. Then this thing about balance comes along. And it's like it all rests on you. I don't see why it's not some great burden."

Of all the things that bothered Han, Luke suspected this wasn't the worst. It was probably the hardest to explain though. "It doesn't rest on me. Or on Leia. We symbolize a change, that's all. An end to a way of thinking that says we can't control our own lives. If people believe that destiny is more powerful than free will they'll end up spending their whole lives trying to avert fate or waiting for it to happen."

"So... you just get on with your life?"

"Exactly. And that's why it's not a burden. If I thought it was it'd defeat the point."

"Which is what?"

The hand that Han had been circling against Luke's back had found its way beneath Luke's tunic, and the tips of fingers now traced the ridges and hollows of Luke's spine. The touch produced chills that skittered across Luke's skin, distracting and tormenting. It was an effort to focus his mind on Han's question. "The balance of the Force is the point, but it's not about intervening to keep it that way. It's about doing the opposite. It's what we were talking about in the caves with Tiriss-elain."

"Avoiding the extremes the Sith and the Jedi went to?" Han asked.

"Yes, sort of." Han's hand had moved from the center of Luke's back to his side, his palm grazing the sensitive skin over Luke's ribcage. Luke breathed out. A long, unsteady breath aimed at bringing his body's responses back under control. "In some ways it's about being passive. That's one of the things Yoda taught me."

"And it's one of the things you ain't," Han stated.

"I mean being passive with the Force. D'you remember in the caves we were talking about the prophecy, and how it was about bringing balance to the Force even when the Jedi thought the Sith were extinct?"

"I remember it made my head spin."

"That makes two of us." Luke grimaced and ran a hand through his hair before resting it back on Han's arm. "It would've been possible for the Jedi to have existed without the Sith and for the Force to have been in balance. It's not a case of it having to be both or neither."

"As long as they didn't try using the Force in the wrong way?"

"That's how I see it. Maybe the Jedi thought they were being passive, but instead they were actively rejecting part of their nature and manipulating the Force to shut off emotions they thought were wrong. It's not about depriving yourself of those emotions, it's about being in harmony with them."

"Yeah, I get what you're saying," Han said. "So does that mean you're in harmony with yours?"

Harmonious wasn't the word Luke would've used to describe his feelings at that exact moment, caught up as they were in the rhythmic caress of Han's hand against his torso. But in the wider picture he could, for maybe the first time in his life, admit that it was true. "Yes," he said.

Han grinned, bent his head to brush his lips across Luke's mouth. "That's a record for you."

He meant the one word answer, but Han's kiss silenced Luke's retort. It was a prolonged, lingering kiss, marked with a vehemence just barely held in check. The touch of restraint was evidence to Luke that Han wanted something more than he'd already told him. When they separated, Luke gazed at Han for a long moment, determined to get to the heart of what Han needed to hear. The problem was he could talk himself round in circles for hours and still not make things any clearer. "In Jira you promised you'd prove to me I was doing the right thing," he said eventually.

"Yeah, but I don't need to now. You've realized it for yourself."

"No, you'd already proved it to me. I just hadn't recognized it."

"You're gonna have to explain that." Han accompanied his words with a slow upward stroke of his hand across Luke's chest, its progress hindered by the bunched up fabric.

"Han, you're..." Luke had been about to say that Han needed to stop what he was doing if he wanted any form of intelligibility from Luke, but Han had already removed his hand. Instead, he'd turned his attention to the fasteners of Luke's tunic.

"I'm what?" Han murmured, his lips locating the space between Luke's collar and his jaw. 

"You're making it difficult."

"I'm listening. Just carry on."

"You not listening isn't the problem."

Han looked up, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth. "You're a Jedi – you can concentrate on more 'n one thing at a time."

"It depends on the things," Luke admitted, attempting to suppress another shiver as Han slid his hands inside the opened tunic. Dealing single-handedly with an entire army of stormtroopers whilst having a conversation with Threepio would probably seem easier in comparison.

"Tell me what I already proved to you," Han said, running the tip of a finger along the hollow beneath Luke's ribs.

Luke wrapped a hand around Han's arm to steady himself, wondering how much longer he could continue to stand upright. "You made me face up to the way I felt. If you hadn't said anything, I'd never have tried to deal with it."

"Some people say ignorance is bliss."

"Maybe. In my case I was just hiding from it because it brought up difficult issues. Accepting how I feel is at the heart of everything."

Han kissed him just below the collar-bone, then stopped to look at him again. "But that ain't the same thing as knowing those feelings are right."

"No." Luke grasped hold of one of Han's roaming hands in an effort to hold onto his concentration. "But I know they're right because they _feel_ right. You told me once that maybe things are as simple as trusting my feelings and at the time I couldn't agree with you. I guess because I didn't think I knew enough to trust myself. The thing is, it's not about knowing – it's just about feeling. It really is as simple as that."

"I'm still not with you. Your father must've felt something similar for your mother."

Luke reached behind him, aiming for the hard support of the transparisteel shield. He shuffled back a pace so he could lean against it. Han moved with him without relinquishing his hold on Luke, but Luke reflected that at least he couldn't fall over now.

"Yes, I'm sure he did. His feelings for her weren't the real problem though. It was because the Jedi Code made him believe they were wrong. What he felt went against the Code so it became a huge conflict for him. Once you start thinking something's wrong you start looking for ways to deal with it. Like secrecy, and denial, and searching for answers in the wrong places."

"I guess that wasn't his fault," Han pointed out. "He'd been taught to believe in the Code."

"I know. And I keep imaging all those years of fighting. The Clone Wars, and probably hundreds of other battles too. You know what it's been like for us. Then there must've been the pressure of being the Chosen One. They'd called him that from when he was a child, so he'd lived most of his life knowing what they wanted him to do. It's not surprising I picked up so many negative emotions. Not just hate and anger – it was mostly hurt and confusion. And betrayal. But during all of that something good happened to him. He fell in love."

"Only it wasn't good. Not according to the Jedi."

"But it _should've_ been. It should've been wonderful. Maybe parts of it were, but it was always going to be overshadowed by who he was and what was expected of him."

"So that's why he turned?"

"I doubt it was the only reason, but it must've been a part of it. And he must've struggled with it by himself because who could he have turned to for advice? Obi-Wan? The Jedi Council? All they would've done was repeat the Code and tell him where his responsibilities lay. I had some of that myself from Yoda."

"D'you think Ben and Yoda ever realized?"

"About where the Jedi went wrong?"

"Yeah. They had long enough to think about it."

Luke nodded slowly. "I think Yoda had realized it right at the end, but I get the feeling the Code was a huge part of who he was. I'm sure he still believed in it, and I'm not saying it's wrong. Just that people are individuals. Once you start telling them how they should feel or think there are bound to be problems. It's true that it's all about feelings, but it's not about trying to twist those feelings into something that fits with the rules." 

"What about Ben?"

"I'm not sure. I always knew he wanted me to kill Vader, although he never said that directly. Somehow I just knew that wasn't the answer and it wasn't only to do with him being my father. I know now that if I'd killed him I would've been continuing that tradition shown in the caves. It wouldn't have made any difference if I thought I was doing it for the Jedi or for some other reason."

"Maybe Ben assumed you'd do that 'cause he believed in the prophecy. Perhaps he thought the Jedi had made a mistake and you were meant to destroy the Sith."

"I don't know. But I think he understood everything afterwards. At the Ewok party."

"When they appeared to you?"

Luke nodded. "I also think that's why they've never come back. Because they knew what I'd done and why I'd done it."

"They've left you alone 'cause they knew things had to change," Han said.

"And I've been lucky. I've not had to grow up with the Code. I've not been surrounded by other Jedi who've managed to adapt to the rules."

Han stared at him. "You've had to face a helluva lot worse. I dunno if I'd call it lucky."

"There were a few bad moments."

"Only you could think of it that way."

"It's in the past now. I've got my whole future ahead of me."

There was the slightest trace of hesitation before Han spoke. "So is it lookin' good?"

Luke smiled. "Yeah. It's looking very good." He dragged Han a little closer. "Not sure about the present though."

A puzzled frown creased Han's brow. "What's wrong?"

"If I have to talk any more about the Jedi I'll be doing it in my sleep. Feels like all I've done for hours." Luke slipped his arm a little further around Han. "I've spent all this time missing you, and here I am, _still_ talking about the Jedi."

Han skimmed a row of kisses across Luke's forehead. "Well, I've got a suggestion."

"What?"

"Just shut up for a while." Han's mouth came down on Luke's again, but this time all traces of caution and insecurity had vanished, leaving in its place something focused and intent. Luke couldn't stop his answering groan, every nerve in his body set on edge by the single-minded concentration of Han's kiss. The sound came from that newly-revealed place inside him, where all his discoveries had laid his feelings bare, free of misconceptions and artificial boundaries. And when they pulled apart, Luke knew that Han had seen that place. He knew it by the way Han's eyes traveled over his face, and how Han's narrowed gaze pierced right though him, unmasking all that visceral need and wanting.

"Just tell me one more thing," Han said.

"What d'you want to know?"

"When you talk about the future, am I a part of that?"

"Surely you know–"

"Just wanna make certain," Han interrupted.

"Han," Luke said, his fingers closing over the hem of Han's shirt, "I can't even _think_ of a future without you. Being with you is essential to me. Like..." Luke shook his head, struggling to put into words the commitment Han was asking for.

"Like what?"

"Like... breathing."

Han stared back at him, thrown into silence by Luke's words. The dancing shadows of the asteroids wove across the room, causing patterns of darkness and light to roll across Han's face. It gave Luke a peculiar sense of disconnection, as though part of Han was hiding behind those patches of shade. Luke had the sudden impulse to shut themselves away. To eliminate every intrusive diversion to leave the two of them completely alone. "Close the shutters," he whispered.

Left only with the soft illumination from the glowpanel, the room lost its distractions. There was just Han, every shade of emotion on his face clearly visible as he walked back to Luke. He didn't say anything, but the gaze that swept over Luke revealed that the significance of Luke's request was not lost on Han. When Han thrust the edges of Luke's tunic apart, his hands finding Luke's body again, it made Luke's skin crawl with anticipation. And when Han's mouth fastened on Luke's throat, and his lips moved along Luke's collar bone, the fervor of his touch raised prickles of perspiration across Luke's skin. 

Luke closed his eyes, all his responses centering on Han's palm, which stroked across his middle with knowing pressure. He heard himself moan when Han replaced his hand with his lips and marked a path of kisses across his abdomen and chest, the heat of them burning into his skin and making Luke shudder with need. When Han's lips closed over a nipple, the sting of teeth drew a sharp gasp from Luke's lips and wrenched his eyes open, something wild and reckless uncoiling within him.

It made him tug at Han's shirt, working it loose enough to reach bare skin. Han's flesh was hot beneath his hands, and the reflexive flutter of muscle an enticement to grip Han's hips, dragging their bodies together. Luke could feel the hard insistence of Han's erection pressing into him, and it turned his breathing erratic.

Han's response was to grind his hips into Luke and to crush his lips against Luke's, his words a hoarse demand. "Come to bed." 

It was all Luke could do to nod, and he wasn't sure how either of them would've made it across the room if they hadn't hauled each other there. Trying to take Han's clothes off, Luke wondered how he'd managed to lose control of half his faculties, and how he'd turned into someone so inept he could hardly cope with Han's blaster belt. And then Han pushed him down onto the mattress and crawled across him, straddling his hips. Pinned his arms above his head and murmured in his ear, "Gonna make you feel so good."

It brought a sharp rush of heat to the surface of his skin to see the way Han looked at him, absorbing all of Luke's responses as his fingertips mapped out the contours of Luke's body. When Han rubbed his thumbs across Luke's nipples he watched Luke writhe, his hooded gaze grown dark and heavy with desire.

Luke could feel himself, hard and inflamed, slick with arousal, and as Han's hand closed around his erection he choked out words that made no sense. Han answered with a husky growl from low in his throat, closing his mouth over Luke's and silencing him with a long, fierce kiss. Afterwards, Han slid his lips beneath Luke's jaw and across his neck, then moved down Luke's body with fixed purpose, igniting nerve-endings everywhere he touched. 

When Han took him in his mouth Luke bit down hard on his lower lip, fighting for control, a choked gasp escaping regardless. And then his hands were clutching at Han's hair and at the sheet beneath him, trying to hold on to both his stability and his self-control. But Han was relentless, and Luke heard his own groans permeate the air with an erratic rhythm that his hips were trying to match, prevented only by the grip Han had on him. Han was holding him tightly and pushing him hard against the mattress, and Luke was close to losing himself in the demanding warmth of Han's mouth. 

But then, when Luke was right on the brink, Han pulled away, leaving him shaky and breathless, aching and disoriented. Han left a hand resting on Luke's hip, his fingers stroking a rhythm against his flesh, a soothing apology that did little to calm Luke's agitation. He used his knees to nudge Luke's legs apart then moved down further, making Luke's breath catch in his lungs and his body tense up with new awareness. Han went slowly, using lingering touches of his tongue to drag involuntary moans from Luke and made him take hard, indrawn breaths that turned him dizzy. Luke couldn't help himself – want and need were coursing through his blood, producing words that came from nowhere and ran together as one long plea for more. 

At the very moment Luke knew he was reaching his limits, Han stopped, raising his head and shifting his position between Luke's legs. He placed a kiss on Luke's navel, and smoothed a path with his palm up the inside of Luke's thigh, giving Luke a too-short moment to piece together the remnants of his control. Han was cautious at first, using the tip of a finger in a slowly circling caress that was acutely physical, consoling and disconcerting all at the same time. When Han took things further, the only warning Luke had was the sudden, firm hold Han took of his hip. Luke felt his whole body twist in reaction as Han pushed two fingers inside him. 

He didn't know if he'd said anything. Couldn't tell if the harsh sounds he'd heard had come from his own lips or from Han's. The discomfort was fleeting, but the sensations were intense, too much and yet not enough. Luke tried to move but Han held him down to keep him still, moving his fingers inside him with a slow, stroking deliberation that made Luke's breath come in rapid, shallow gasps.

And maybe Luke could have handled the sharp burn of pleasure if Han had continued to touch him that way, but Luke had drifted too far from his ability to think, dominated by the craving for more. Whatever words he'd used provoked a string of muttered curses from Han, silenced only when Han dipped his head to slide his lips down the length of Luke's erection. When Han pressed harder with the fingers he'd curled inside Luke, his sensations went into overload, and Luke could do nothing more than utter a strangled cry as his climax tore through him.

And then Han was kissing him furiously, too tense and desperate to give Luke even a moment to recover. He ground his hips into Luke's and wrapped an arm around him as he thrust against him. It took all Luke's strength to drag himself back from the dazed stupor that had taken him over, and he rolled Han onto his back, placing a hand flat against his chest to soothe him. But there wasn't time to calm Han down, and every touch of Luke's just wound him up further. Luke moved quickly, wrapping a hand around the base of Han's cock and grazing his lips against Han's length. He breathed in the scent of Han and listened to Han's curses start up again. Opened his mouth and took Han in, feeling Han arch up beneath him. He wanted to go slowly. To build up to a rhythm that kept Han there, lost in the slide of Luke's lips and the caress of the hand that Luke had drawn up between Han's thighs. But Han's hips were bucking fitfully and Luke had to work hard to keep him in place. It took only moments, and then Han was coming hard, a long, harsh groan in his throat and a hand twisting in Luke's hair.

Luke lay there with his head on Han's chest, feeling the thrum of Han's heartbeat against his cheek. Gradually it slowed to a steadier beat, and the fingers that had tangled in his hair relaxed. Luke searched for Han's other had, found it and linked his fingers in with Han's.

"What you wanted... I couldn't do it now," Han said, his voice gruff. "We need something for that."

Luke shifted up, smiled at Han, realizing what it was he'd demanded when he couldn't contain his words. "I know. Good job we've got lots of other opportunities ahead of us."

Han grinned at him. "Yeah. C'mere a minute." Han moved his hand to the back of Luke's neck, pulled him into a kiss.

"Y'know," Han said, after they'd broken the kiss, "you still haven't told me what your plans are. Are you gonna stay with the Rogues?"

Luke nodded. "Yes. I'm going to carry on doing what I've been doing for the moment."

"No Jedi Council?"

"Definitely no Jedi Council. That's part of the past. I'm not gonna try reinventing myself as a Jedi from the Old Republic."

"That explains the cloak."

"What?"

"You didn't wanna wear your cloak earlier on," Han elaborated.

"Oh... no. Whenever I wore it I felt like I was trying to turn myself into someone else. And wherever I go people expect me to wear it because that's what a Jedi does. It feels like a symbol of the past, and I want to break with that, at least for a while."

"So people'll have to get used to seein' you without it."

"Yes, they will."

"What about the training? Yoda tellin' you to pass it on?"

"That's what I need to sort out. It's something I want to do, but not in the formal way the Jedi used to do it. That seems wrong to me. From what I can gather they took them to Coruscant as young children. Separated them from their mothers and fathers because overcoming their loneliness and fear was part of their training."

"It must've been hard on them," Han said.

"That was probably the point. It's easier to teach children to obey the rules. Then when they're old enough to question them they're so much a part of who they are that it's almost impossible to shake free of them. I remember Yoda telling me I was too old to begin the training and he was right in a sense. I never did learn to obey the rules."

"It's like I've always told you – you're just difficult."

Luke threw him a grin. "I'm probably making the Jedi sound harsh, but I don't mean to. I don't know enough about them to make any kind of judgment, only that their way feels too extreme to me."

"Yeah, well there are extremes and there are extremes," Han said pointedly.

"Is that supposed to have some deep meaning?"

"Just thinkin' about some of the things you like."

"Like what?"

Han shrugged. "I dunno. The things you drink."

Luke laughed. "The things I _drink_? What, like water? Engine oil? Sandbat venom?" 

"Redgrain spirit," Han pronounced, a clear note of 'I told you so' in his voice.

"Oh, right. So what about who I sleep with? Another extreme?"

"Nah – perfectly normal."

"Of course. I'm extreme and you're completely balanced. That's what I thought when I first met you."

Han smirked. "You're a good judge of character. Seriously though, you're not extreme in other ways."

"That's something then," Luke remarked. "What ways do you mean?"

"You always see both sides to somethin' and you keep your mind open to every point of view. That's why you're here and the Jedi aren't."

"I can only do what feels right for me." _Pass on what you have learned..._ "I used to think Yoda meant me to reconstruct the ways of the Jedi. Now I think he meant something else. It's not the old ways I'm meant to be passing on, just my understanding of the Force, and what it means to be a Jedi."

"D'you think there are others out there?"

"You mean like me?"

"Yeah. Maybe they don't know what it is they've got."

 _When gone am I, the last of the Jedi will you be..._ "I don't know, but I'd like to find out. I'm trying to work out a way to do it."

"Well if you want any help..."

Luke planted a kiss on Han's lips. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that." He leaned in further for a long, slow kiss that left him wondering if he really needed to sleep that night. But then again, he didn't know how impressed the Polis Massan medical team would be with a pilot who spent half the flight yawning.

"What about your mother?" Han asked. "Now you know who she was, are you gonna find out more?"

"Yes. There's a lot more Senator Danu can tell me and I'm sure Mon Mothma remembers stuff too." Luke propped himself up on one elbow and studied Han. "There _is_ something I'd really like to do."

"What?"

"I want to go to Naboo. It's where she came from."

Han touched a hand to his arm. "Then we'll go to Naboo."

***

The soft tap on the door woke Han immediately. He didn't need to lie there wondering how long the person had been there, because some reflexes never died. Maybe it was down to the kind of life he'd led, but for as long as could remember he'd slept with one ear open, listening for potential trouble. He had no idea of the time, and couldn't imagine what anyone could want from him, but whoever it was had no intention of going away. Han grimaced at the second tap, and rubbed a fist against his eyes, trying to clear his mind of the residual fog of sleep. 

Luke hadn't stirred, though Han suspected some subconscious instinct would've torn Luke from the bed if there'd been the slightest hint of a threat. On Polis Massa that was an unlikely scenario. Luke's left arm lay heavily across Han's chest and he'd buried his face in the gap between Han's chin and his shoulder. Carefully, Han released himself from Luke's embrace, determined to avoid waking Luke if possible. Luke made a soft noise like a sigh of protest, but didn't open his eyes. Han planted a kiss on the top of his head and slid from the bed.

He sorted through the wreckage of clothing on the floor, finding his pants and shoving his arms into his crumpled shirt. He spotted his chrono in amongst the pile and retrieved it, scowling at the time it displayed. He rubbed a hand across his face again and pressed the door panel to activate the door.

Senator Danu stood outside, for once looking less than immaculate in hastily snatched robes, and with the dark emergence of stubble shadowing his chin. Han looked at him in surprise.

"I apologize for my intrusion," Danu said. "Something's happened that you need to know about."

Han stepped into the corridor, moving away from the opened door so as not to disturb Luke. "What's goin' on? Something's happened here?"

Danu shook his head. "Not here. Que-raik received a communication from Arudin and came to find me. It was Mon Mothma."

Something cold and heavy settled in the pit of Han's stomach. There was no HoloNet communicator on Polis Massa, so for Mon Mothma to take the trouble to reach the Senator in the middle of the night using sub-space relays implied a level of severity that was unlikely to mean good news.

"Leia?"

"No," Danu said quickly. "She's okay. It's nothing like that. No-one's injured or ill."

Han swallowed his relief. There were plenty of other problems it could be. An Imperial assault or major galactic uprising... "What is it then?"

Danu hesitated. "Luke needs to hear this too. I went to his room, but only his droid is there. I thought he might be with you."

Han stared at him, a strange feeling growing inside him that something in their lives was about to turn upside down. "Yeah, he's here. Gimme a minute to wake him up?"

"Of course."

 

Han sat down on the bed and stroked the hair back from Luke's face. "Luke."

Luke smiled, his eyes still closed, and reached for Han's hand. "It can't be morning already," he muttered, half asleep.

"It's the middle of the night. You've gotta wake up."

Something in his voice must've got through to Luke, because Luke's eyes flew open, confusion flashing through them in the brief moments before concern took over. "What's wrong?"

"I dunno yet. Danu's outside the door. Mon Mothma's just got hold of him. He wants to speak to you."

Luke sat up quickly, all traces of sleepiness vanished. "Has he told you anything? Do you know–"

Han interrupted him. "It's not Leia. As far as I know, everyone's okay." He reached down to the floor and grabbed Luke's clothes. "Here."

While Luke was getting dressed Han went to let the Senator in. He adjusted the glowpanel to give a brighter pool of light in the center of the room. The walls remained in shadow.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed," Danu said to Luke. "Did Han explain that Mon Mothma has contacted me?"

Luke nodded. "Yes." He attempted to fasten his tunic, but gave it up when the fasteners wouldn't co-operate. "Has something happened on Arudin?"

"Not exactly. It's more widespread than that."

"Imperials?"

"The information stems from them. I'm sorry, because this isn't going to be easy."

"You'd better just tell us straight out," Han said, noticing how his sense of an approaching crisis had grown much stronger. If the expression on Luke's face was anything to go by, Luke was experiencing a similar presentiment.

"It transpires that the Emperor kept a personal databank, separate from the main Imperial archives. In it are details of everyone and everything that might have served some purpose to him," Danu explained. "Its existence has just come to light."

"It was found on Coruscant?" Han asked.

"Yes. So it's still in the hands of those who wish us harm. And they've chosen to broadcast certain facts."

"Vader," Luke said. His voice was flat and his face expressionless. Han moved up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, knowing as well as Luke did what was coming next.

Danu inclined his head. "Yes, Vader. It started with a transmission from a small station sympathetic to the Imperial cause. Some of the major channels have picked up the story already." Danu took a deep breath and settled his gaze on Luke. "It reveals the true identity of Darth Vader. And that of his son."

Luke was the first to break the long moment of silence, and Han marveled at how calm he sounded. "What about Leia?"

"There's been no mention of her," Danu said. "If that information was in the Emperor's databank, I'm sure the Imperials would've made it public."

"It won't be in there," Luke said. "The Emperor only found out about Leia a few minutes before his death."

"How many people know about this?" Han asked. He knew the question was pointless even as he asked it. The news was the biggest thing to break since the death of Palpatine. Even the tiniest whispers took mere days to travel the length and breadth of the galaxy.

"It's spreading fast," Danu confirmed. "Mon Mothma wants to make a public statement. But she wants Luke to be there with her."

Luke nodded slowly but didn't speak. Han tightened his hold on Luke's shoulder and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. "We need to get back there then," he said. His throat felt dry and constricted, making his voice hoarse.

Danu nodded. "You take Luke on your ship. You can make the flight in half the time the cruiser can. I'll stay here and sort things out with the Polis Massans. I'm sure they can find a pilot to take me and Sheni-dain's team back to Arudin."

"If they still want to go," Luke added.

"Oh, they will," Danu said.

 

When the Senator had gone, Han and Luke stood there in silence just looking at each other. It was impossible for Han to determine Luke's reaction, and even if Luke had explained in depth, Han knew he couldn't come close to imagining how it must feel.

They'd known it had to happen one day, but they'd wanted to break the news themselves. In the hands of those who considered Luke their greatest enemy, who knew what damage it had already done.

Han moved across to Luke, placed his hands on Luke's shoulders. "We can do whatever you wanna do. Just let me know."

"I want to get back there as quickly as possible. Leia won't rest until we're home. And if anyone finds out we're here, well, you know what'll happen."

Han nodded. "The place'll be overrun with news scavengers before we can blink."

"It wouldn't be fair on the Polis Massans."

"It'd be hard for 'em, but it wouldn't be your fault. Besides, I think this is one place we can count on for support."

"Yes, but I'd rather not force them into giving it before they're ready."

"We'll get going as soon as you want. We can be back in less than forty-eight hours."

"You know there'll be ships ten deep in orbit round Arudin?"

"Hey, a few ships ain't gonna faze me. I know a few maneuvers, remember."

In the circumstances, Luke's attempt at a grin was passable. "Yeah, I know."

Han lifted a hand and held it against Luke's cheek. "You won't be facing this by yourself. You'll have a lot of support."

"Being seen with me will make life difficult for you. There'll always be people who won't understand."

"You think you haven't _already_ made my life difficult? One more thing ain't gonna make much difference."

Luke gave a quiet laugh. "I guess not."

Han pulled Luke to him, wrapped his arms around him. "We'll sort it out, however long it takes. And whatever happens, I'm gonna be there with you."

"What if it takes forever?"

"Then you'll be stuck with me forever, won't you?"

Luke smiled, and the light of happiness stole across his face and into his eyes. "Yes, I suppose I will." 


End file.
